


Haruba Jones and the Judgment of Arceus

by magnetism



Series: Auraverse [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions
Genre: Family Drama, Father-Son Relationship, Multi, Pokemon Gym Leader(s), Redemption, Reunions, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2018-10-22 14:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 58,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10698855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetism/pseuds/magnetism
Summary: 3.2.18 UPDATE - IRON ISLAND ARC: Roark learns about Byron and Riley's relationship, but for some reason, they're not confessing; Pikki meets Khaled in person and learns something shocking about the man she grew up admiring; Riley must choose between Khaled's secret and Byron's trust. Nothing is ever the same after a visit to unassuming Iron Island…





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my new fiction venture! This is a multi-layered story about Sinnoh; part journeyfic, part gym leader politics, part good old adventure involving some men and gods, and a bit of romance here and there. There's a lot going on, and while it's going to be a long haul, I hope everyone finds something to enjoy.
> 
> This is part of a "series" called, for simplicity's sake, _Auraverse_. Short for "Aura Universe" because this fic's title was originally going to refer to aura. It's a series not only for planned sequels, but also for little side-stories that might pop up now and again (we all know what this means). This installment is broken into arcs, with chapters 1-3 being the prologue. I warned you about the long haul.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** While I write in a few bits of game canon, this is not a DPPt playthrough/nuzlocke-type story. Some characterizations and story bits are the results of roleplay shenanigans from eons ago that remain near and dear to my heart. What you won't find: 1) game protagonists. I make my own characters whenever I play through a region, and my Sinnoh girl and Ranger guy are the stars. They are not Dawn and Lunick. Don't ask for Dawn or her friends, there are thousands of stories about them already; 2) anime cast/canons. Just no; 3) Team Galactic. I have my own less transparent "villainous" forces, so again, if you're looking for TG, plenty of other fics out there. If any of this bothers you, please consider this setting an alternate universe. Technically, it takes place in the same continuity as, and a few years after the end of my other story, Eternal Winter — which _is_ an AU.
> 
> I realize this is a dense work, even I have ridiculously huge files full of notes to refresh my memory (thank u cross-device cloud-based storage systems ☆). You can find character profiles and notes about the setting, League rules, and other such things at [magnetism.dreamwidth.org](http://magnetism.dreamwidth.org). Other places to find me are listed in my profile.

At long last, after years of laying low and planning, they've made it to the Sinjoh Ruins. Khaled had always meant to explore it, but it was Riley who deduced what lay hidden inside. They set up camp in an abandoned cabin near the ruins' entrance; the site is hidden deep in the mountains of the remote, rural Holon region. Most have dismissed it as a barren relic of the days when Johto integrated itself with native Sinnoh — a shrine to nothing more than colonization. Khaled knows from research that the temple is more than that, it's connected to the Original One. He means to see it for himself, even though the last time he was in Holon, he was partially responsible for irreparable damage to one of its villages.

The ruins' interior fills with eerie light that shines from the jewels of Khaled's carbink. Riley lets out a soft gasp, unable to contain himself. The flash makes this temple all the more otherworldly, beautiful and strange. Wordlessly, Khaled grins at him, his pokemon's white glow casting sharp shadows along his handsome face. 

They move quietly through the temple, the only sound being gritty crunches under their feet. Riley fiddles with his gold pendant, one of many artifacts they've discovered together. Gazing at the carved, eroded walls, he feels odd. The two of them are definitely intruding on untouched, holy ground, but more than that, he feels as though they're being watched. As woefully out of practice as he is, he can sense no other living aura nearby. He attributes it to the atmosphere of the place and nothing more.

"Look at this," Khaled whispers, pausing to point at a wall. "These carvings are similar to the Ruins of Alph."

"Of course," Riley whispers back. "The two places are related. Any archaeologist worth his shoal salt knows that."

Khaled gives him a look, narrowing his eyes and then chuckling. "Well, it's just incredible to see with your own eyes. We're the first humans here in ages." He snaps a photo of the wall with his slim digital camera. Its brief flash is far brighter than his carbink's.

"You shouldn't do that," Riley cautions in a hushed tone. "I don't think we're exactly alone."

"You saying it's haunted?" Khaled's lopsided grin spreads. "That would explain why we haven't run into any wild pokemon taking shelter, huh?"

"No, not like that. I feel like this temple has a sacred air that the area pokemon are respecting. But I also feel like we're being watched." 

"Mm." Khaled turns, lightly pushing his carbink forward to illuminate a passageway. "Well, whoever's watching us will see we're just having a look around. We've come out of plenty of other sacred temples in one piece. Come on."

Riley follows him, knowing full well they are here for more than a simple look. None of the hallowed places they've explored in the past have affected him like this one. Maybe it's just nerves. He, too, was in Holon during Khaled's previous incident — it was how they met. If his friend is apprehensive about being back here, it doesn't show. Riley admires him for it. He's younger by a decade and then some, but he's always been the more cautious of the pair.

Lost in his own thoughts, he fails to take notice of the small chamber they've entered. He barely pays attention to the other man poking around, uncovering a dust-covered chest, and peering inside. Khaled's excited laugh brings him back to the moment. "Riley! C'mere!" 

He's lifting some bizarre object from the old chest beside which he kneels. Carbink's light makes the thing seem all the more otherworldly: a large, organic lump that fills both of Khaled's big hands, holes of varying sizes all over its intensely blue body. "Looks like you were right," he adds.

"The Azure Flute," Riley murmurs incredulously. "I can't believe no one realized it's here."

"I can't believe it was meant for us." Khaled's fingers close around its sides protectively. "Well, I take that back. I can believe it was waiting for us. You ready for a big comeback?"

"It's your comeback, Khaled. I'm not anyone important."

"Riiight," Khaled drawls slyly. He gazes down at the flute. "Heh, maybe after this, I can finally track down my—" He stops short, and his rugged face is puzzled as he looks from side to side.

"What is it?"

"I heard… a voice? It really is haunted in here, wooo…"

Riley's apprehension grows, though he knows his friend is teasing him. "Well, we got what we came for, so we should go." Taking the ancient flute, he tucks it inside Khaled's giant backpack, nestling it in between layers of clothes. Then he zips it up securely and pats it. "Come on. Lead the way, Carbink."

They follow the floating fairy rock's light, but barely make it to the corridor between chambers when Khaled falters, holding his head and leaning against the wall. This time he seems genuinely disturbed, even pained. "What's wrong?" Riley seizes his arm, hoping to steady him. "Khaled?"

Then he hears it too — or rather, _feels_ it inside his head. It's a buzz, a hum, several pitches at once. Their discordant sounds make his head throb. Unown, Riley realizes. Naturally, this temple, with carvings identical to those in the Ruins of Alph, is similarly inhabited by unown. Are they upset by the removal of the ancient treasure? All of Riley and Khaled's research has shown that unown have no connection to the Azure Flute — however, their lord and master does.

Riley steadies himself on the stone wall with one arm, blindly reaching for Khaled with the other, to no avail. Carbink hovers above, its flash flickering due to nervousness. The unown's humming bombards him, filling his head with so much he feels it might burst. What little command he has over aura and all things telepathic, he tries to summon — again, to no avail. 

Finally the unown's clamor gives way to words, half-formed messages that fade in and out like a chaotic chorus. _«Land threatened… the old land in danger… greed of men…»_

_«What?»_ Riley asks mentally, praying he can communicate.

 _«The black island, burning mountain… you are the one who can end it…»_

Their cacophonous messages pulse sharply inside him. This seems to have nothing to do with the Azure Flute after all. Riley can understand that the guardian unown have appeared to drive invasive humans out of their home, but why the cryptic prophecy? Why not simply teleport them out into the snow?

Then the ground begins to shake. Against his shoulder, Riley feels the walls rumble. Futilely, he covers his head with one arm while taking a weak step forward. What good would it do to be crushed under the lost Sinjoh Ruins if the unown are requesting his help? He hears again that he is "the one," accompanied by his name — his full name, the one he hasn't gone by in years.

 _«Enough!»_ he cries back mentally. His aura manipulation swells within him, blowing back the tiny telepathic presences. With a clear head at last, he sees Khaled on his knees, clutching the sides of his head. Is it worse for him? Riley grabs his arm, hauling him to his feet and dragging him behind. 

Outside, the late-winter air with its persistent cold chill their bodies, shocking them back to reality. Riley catches his breath, staring back at the temple. It looks to be in one piece; he reasons that the quake was an illusion to get them moving. What would have happened if he hadn't managed to use his aura to drive off those unown? 

The expressionless carbink seems relieved, hovering close to Riley, who pats its rocky body. Its trainer is bent over, hands on his knees, panting steadily.

Riley gives him a moment. "Khaled?" he asks, full of worry.

The older man snaps up. Ashen-faced, his eyes are bulged, unnerved. "He knows!" 

"Who?" Tentatively, Riley seizes his friend's shoulders. "Who knows?"

" _Judgment will cleanse Sinnoh of the greed of men,_ " Khaled rasps. "That's what he said. The temples I've raided, the cons I've pulled, the women I've wronged… he knows everything! Arceus, the Original One!"

Riley frowns, releasing his grip. "Greed of men… I received part of that message myself. I had something like a dozen unown talking at once in my head."

"This was no unown. It was the One…" He trails off, aimlessly staring into space. "More than one!"

"You heard multiple voices after all?"

"No!" Khaled grasps Riley's arms, shaking him. "He said I had more than one! He said I have to… do right by them…" He drifts again, a far cry from his fearless self.

"Listen to me," Riley says firmly, concerned about this uncharacteristic mad rambling. "Khaled, _listen_. The unown are said to be messengers of Arceus, and they spoke to me. Something about a burning mountain in danger, probably by some corporation looking to use it for their own gain. Arceus is likely calling for your help as well."

"He's seeking retribution. He said as much!"

"Arceus won't punish you for being… you. Else it would come for me as well. The cons _we_ pulled, right?"

That makes him smile, and for a second, the old Khaled is back. But his smile fades as quickly as it appeared. "How many…" he whispers, staring past Riley into the snow. "How many could I possibly have left behind?"

"Let's get away from here. We need to get to that cabin and rest. You'll feel better after some sleep." He pats his friend's shoulders above the backpack where their fortune now rests. "Arceus won't judge your past, Khaled. You found its lost ritual flute, it will thank you."

"Arceus is going to send me to hell regardless," Khaled replies hollowly.

Grimacing, Riley pulls him along. "I won't let that happen."

}{}{}{}{}{

Riley sleeps fitfully in the nearby abandoned cabin. He's sure Khaled does too. But lying still with closed eyes is better than remaining awake and active, so Riley accepts whatever rest he can get. In between dozing off, his mind races with theories about what the messages to both him and Khaled mean.

He's also filled with thoughts of his closest friend. As much as he wants to help, he has a feeling Khaled's latest problem is one he'll have to deal with alone. The two of them have gotten in and out of trouble over the past couple of years, and are as thick as thieves. And for every misadventure, there were just as many good times. Riley recalls the latest one, the week they spent living it up in Saffron City. They landed a big score and figured out the location of the Azure Flute, and rang in the new year partying like Unovan celebrities. Some things happened at the end that they've resolved to never again speak of, but Riley still feels guilty and awkward whenever he remembers, privately.

When morning comes, he gets up and brews coffee. Once the drink wakes Khaled up, he appears more clear-headed, though still tired. "I think," he says slowly, "I'll go home first. I want to talk to Olympia."

"Home?" Riley repeats. "You haven't called Anistar your home in ages."

"She and some other family members are there. I need to see them before… well, before the worst happens."

"Khaled…" Riley wants to plead with him to come to his senses.

"She can tell me. She sees the future. And she can probably tell me about my— you know." He can't bring himself to say it out loud.

Riley knows. He also knows he shouldn't tag along on such a personal mission, no matter how much he wants to visit Kalos, like Khaled promised. "I guess I'll…" he starts to say. "What should I do?"

Khaled knocks back the last of his coffee. "You go on to Sinnoh. Been talking about it long enough."

"Yes, I suppose it's time. Shall I take the Azure Flute to the Shin'ai Museum? I won't take credit, I'll tell them it's a donation from Haruba Jones."

Khaled smirks. "Nah, I should deliver it in person. Just lemme do this first."

"I want to do _something_ to help, though."

"You've done plenty for me already, you rich bastard."

The mountainous path that hides the Sinjoh Ruins and neighboring cabin is too narrow for large flying pokemon to take to the skies. The two explorers hike in silence, both buried under the weight of their own thoughts. Once they're out in the open, they release their mounts.

"This is so sudden," Riley remarks. "After everything we've been through."

"So sentimental." Khaled grins. "I'll be back in Sinnoh in no time. Tell you what: we'll meet in Canalave in a month."

Riley blinks, startled. "Not the Shin'ai Museum?"

"Nope, Canalave. You go there and look up that man of yours." His grin widens as Riley's face flushes. "And before you say it, you're ready. You're beyond ready." He claps the younger man's slender shoulder.

Riley squeezes his arm in return. "Good luck, Khaled. I hope she has a favorable fortune for you."

Khaled nods, sucks in his breath, and starts to turn towards his waiting flygon. The wind picks up, and they both hold their hats in place. "There is one thing you can do for me, Riley."

"What's that?"

"Find them. I know your aura sense can do that much. Find them!"

Riley nods slowly. "I shall." 

They clasp hands and Khaled thumps his back. And then he's on his giant flygon, who gracefully lifts off the ground. Riley watches until they disappear beyond the mountaintops. A snort from his less patient salamence tells him it's time he left on his own.

}{}{}{}{}{

**Author's Note Part 2:** "Haruba" is the the name of [a village](http://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Haruba_Village) and corresponding desert in Almia featured in the second Pokemon Ranger game. Khaled took on "Haruba" as his nickname, as his first big claim to fame came from some major finds there many years ago. He has a fondness for desert settings, especially this one, because Haruba Village was settled by his cultural ancestors and named after their favorite confection.

Said confection is [halva](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halva), a dessert with different varieties across many countries. Therefore "Haruba" should be pronounced as if you are saying "halva" in Japanese.

I had the opportunity to buy some, and was excited to eat it... only to find the texture was kind of like a Mr. Clean Magic Sponge. It was not at all as expected. Probably what I get for buying a tiny packaged Mediterranean-style halva at a chain store in the midwest US.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Pikki" is pronounced like "pika," just with more mouthfuls of k. The origin of her name was a forum handle (which involved Pika-) in-joke from eons past, so when I made yet another OC around the same time, I named her after that, mainly to amuse myself. Here, it's derived from Pirika, once a common girl's name in Shin'ai.
> 
> To learn more about the Shin'ai, [click here](http://magnetism.dreamwidth.org/15907.html).

During the long flight to Sinnoh, Riley decides to stop in the closest major town to the Sinjoh Ruins: Pueltown, Almia. The small region might be attached to Sinnoh's main island, but it remains its own independent land, as Johto is to Kanto. Riley tells himself it's convenient to be here, giving his salamence and himself a rest, before he continues north to Canalave.

He's also curious to see if he can find what Khaled requested. His friend had spent a notable amount of time in Pueltown, following his first claim to fame in the Haruba Desert, where he took on his nickname. Riley would like to see the desert and its quaint village; he decides it would be better, more appropriate, if Khaled took him.

Riley wonders if he's forgotten how to handle solitude. He misses Khaled and is worried about him, as much as he is nervous about his destination. Maybe more? He is ever present in Riley's thoughts, though he attributes it to being in this city. 

Pueltown is the hub of Almia, a port city nestled in the heart of the bay. Amusingly, it reminds Riley of Canalave. He strolls through the marketplace, fondly remembering how he used to explore Canalave's import shops. The day he found chocolate from his ancestral country made him so _happy_ — everything about that place made him happy.

He pauses by a shop called Café Haruba and thinks of Khaled again. Riley strolls past, debating whether to go back and try a specialty coffee with the village's namesake confection, when he collides with a passerby.

"Watch where you're going," the young man says brusquely, with a glare.

"I'm so sorry—" Riley apologizes. He locks eyes with him for just a moment; he's stricken by a feeling that this boy is familiar somehow, though not entirely. He has shaggy dark hair and wide-set dark eyes that continue to shoot daggers.

"Tourists," he mutters, continuing on his way.

Something about him reminds Riley of Khaled ever so slightly. "I must need to get out of here," he says to himself. "I'm seeing him everywhere."

He decides he'll get a good night's sleep and head to Canalave in the morning. In his hotel, he watches the news to familiarize himself with what's going on in his home region. The top story is how Stark Mountain erupted without warning, baffling scientists who had predicted the volcano would stay dormant for hundreds of years to come. Though there is no proof yet, they believe some external force caused it, as though something or someone tampered with the mountain's makeup. As far as they can tell, there were no victims found on the sparsely-populated island.

"The burning mountain," Riley mumbles incredulously. Stark Mountain once had a name that meant as such in an ancient language. The burning mountain on the black island. _The old land in danger,_ the unown had warned. Canalave will have to wait a little bit longer.

Naturally, the entire volcanic region is blocked off, as agents from both the Environmental Preservation Bureau and the Sinnoh League Association guard the routes leading there. Riley has to laugh at himself for thinking he could just waltz up to the still-smoking Stark Mountain and poke around, though that's exactly what he, a wayfaring pokemon trainer, had intended to do. His salamence could very easily fly to the volcano undetected — but the cleanup crew would find Riley poking around sooner or later. 

Instead he slips into the thick forest on foot and tells his lucario to explore the remains in his stead. His oldest pokemon is the stealthiest, and can hide from human eyes. His aura sense is infinitely better than Riley's, so he'll be able to detect any trace of unscrupulous activity, even after it happened.

Riley has his suspicions as to who was involved, based on hints from his divine message. He prays he is wrong.

Now that his plans have come to a halt, Riley realizes he could have gone to Canalave first, then come to check out Stark Mountain when the aftermath was over. He tells himself that he's on the Battle Zone island now, he might as well stay for a few days to find out whatever he can, _then_ continue to the promised city.

 _Khaled, I'm not ready,_ he thinks, bitterly. 

The closest "town" to Stark Mountain is the Survival Area, which is more of a waystation for those training in the harsh environment. The next closest place of civilization is the Fight Area, a small port town that serves as the entry point to the gaudy Battle Frontier. By process of elimination, Riley decides to wait out his time in the Resort Area, Sinnoh's most exclusive vacation spot that sits farther from the other two towns on the Battle Zone's southeastern beach. 

After securing a room at one of the beachfront resorts, Riley's next order of business is lunch. He discovers a restaurant boasting Shin'ai fare named Atuy Kotan, which he knows to be the town's original name before the Sinnoh League Association bought up the island. At least some vestige of native culture has remained.

He is initially disappointed that the restaurant does not feel like a thorough trip back in time. When he enters, a young waitress roller-skates past him, bidding him welcome and cheerfully telling him to have a seat. Her costume robe includes short sleeves and shorter skirt, though the hems are trimmed in wide red bands with a traditional Shin'ai pattern. The restaurant's decor is more tasteful: antique statues, weapons, and cookware — or replicas of them — mounted on the walls. 

Riley slides into a booth and studies a menu, which consists of everyday modern dishes alongside a handful of Shin'ai-inspired meals. Though he's discouraged further, he figures it's to cater to the tastes of Resort Area patrons. Before he can mull it over, the waitress skids to a stop before him, handing him a complimentary cup of hot tea. "Hi! My name's Pirika. I'm the only waitress here, but I'll take good care of you." 

Riley smiles, glancing at her skates. "The only one? Are you short-staffed today?"

"Nope, it's just me, all day every day!" She beams. "Is this your first visit? I think I would have remembered a face as handsome as yours." 

"Indeed it is," he responds, amused. She is angling for a good tip.

"If you have any questions, I'll be more than happy to answer them."

"Might I look around at your decor while I wait? I'm somewhat of an antiques dealer."

"Oh! Yes of course, feel free. Some of these objects were uncovered from the Shin'ai Expedition and given to us personally."

This takes Riley by surprise. "Is that so? That's fantastic." He hands Pirika the menu and orders a Shin'ai specialty meat and vegetable stew. She compliments his choice and glides away backwards with practiced ease, smiling at him the entire time.

Now that he can study the restaurant more, he can appreciate how it's set up to be more of a cozy cabin than a kitschy tourist trap. Some of the decor — like a framed robe with twice as much fabric as Pirika's — is clearly replicated, while others are the genuine article. Next to the entrance in a glass case is a weathered, wooden statue of an ursaring on four legs with a fish in its jaws. On the wall beside it is a newspaper clipping about the Shin'ai Expedition, the largest discovery of the indigenous people's relics in a single area. It was lead by the young Khaled Jones just one year after his archaeological debut in the Haruba Desert. 

Riley knows all this, of course. Khaled has regaled him with tales of all his exploits, and he particularly liked bragging about this expedition, not only because it brought him renown and helped revitalize the Hallows Town Shin'ai District, but because he had to deal with all that snow and ice when he's a born desert and sun man. The rewards, he said, were well worth freezing his ass off in the Snowpoint mountain range.

In the accompanying photo, Khaled is grinning while holding up the same ursaring statue. He is twenty-two — just a couple of years younger than Riley is now — and he hasn't aged much at all in the seventeen years since this picture was taken.

"I hear you're an expert," a voice interrupts his fond memories. Riley jumps as he faces a woman who looks almost exactly like the cute little waitress. The same dark hair, identical blue eyes. Her older sister, perhaps. She's dressed for neither serving nor cooking.

"That may be a slight exaggeration," he admits. "I just know a thing or two about the Shin'ai."

"Then I hope my humble establishment makes a good impression." She sticks out her hand. "Ayame Hidaka, owner and proprietor."

"It does." He shakes her hand. "I'm Riley. Ah, Torres," he adds, unused to giving a sort-of full name. "You were able to procure some of the finds just for your restaurant all the way out here? I would think the Shin'ai Museum claimed them all."

"I was working at the Maratto restaurant in Hallows Town back then. But I wanted to open my own place, and I chose to come all the way up here. Thought the rich folk who vacation in Resort Area might like a different kind of culture… so Haruba Jones was able to send me with a few relics. I owe it all to him, really."

"That was very generous. It's funny to find his presence here. I'm a friend of his."

"Are you?" Ayame lights up. "Have you seen him recently?"

"Just days ago. If you can keep a secret, he should be coming back to Sinnoh pretty soon with a major discovery."

"Oh…" she whispers, gazing at the news article. "I wonder if he'll stop by."

Riley studies her and tries to recall if Khaled ever mentioned an Ayame. Her wistful voice, in particular, interests him. He would like to get her to talk more, at length, so he can focus on her aura. Before he can, there's the familiar sound of skates skidding to a halt. "I've brought your dinner to your table, sir," Pirika pipes up.

"Thank you. I've been looking forward to it."

"Is there anything else I can get for you? More tea? I could tell you about our own little museum."

"Pikki," Ayame says crisply, "table two needs bussing."

"Mom!" she cries. With an embarrassed glance up at Riley, she skates away.

"You're her mother?" he confirms. "I could have sworn you were sisters."

Ayame smiles modestly. "Aren't you sweet. I must get back to work, so please enjoy your meal. And thank you for your visit."

"Thank _you_ , Ms. Hidaka." Riley nods to her.

The stew is excellent, earthy and refreshing, unlike anything he's had before. Riley is a great lover of foods from all over the world, so he is pleased to add another dish to his experience. There is only one pair of diners left, which he feels is a shame. Then again, tourist season is still a couple of months away. He prays business will pick up in the summer.

He wonders how his lucario's investigation of Stark Mountain is going, and if he should venture back to the forest to meet him, or if he will seek out Riley all the way on the southern coast. Feeling impatient about it, he distracts himself watching Pirika glide over to the other couple, chat eagerly with them, and take their drinks for refills. After returning to them, she looks around obviously for signs of her mother, then approaches Riley's table by skating on one foot.

"How is it?" she asks.

"Superb. Please give my compliments to your chef. You do have more than one of those?"

She winces through her gracious smile. "Just the one. But he'll be very glad to hear it."

"Has it always been this way? I imagine it can get stressful."

"Well, no… but that keeps it interesting!" She adds extra enthusiasm, which Riley can tell is forced. "So please spread the word about us if you can."

"I certainly shall. I'm heading to Canalave City after my business here on the island. Their international bazaar could surely do with some advertising of your lovely place."

"Ooh, that'd be great!" She touches his shoulder. "You're so kind. You're here on business, you say? Antiquing business?"

With that touch, he looks at her more intently, deep into her wide blue eyes. In the back of his mind, his rusty aura sense flickers.

At his profound stare, Pirika blushes and retracts her hand. "My apologies," Riley says hastily. "My mind suddenly wandered. A bad habit of mine. I confess, not business in that sense. I've come because of what happened to Stark Mountain."

"Oh yes, that was terrible. I'm afraid there's not much anyone can do, however."

"I have a hunch that something more happened there than we're led to believe," says Riley. "I'd like to find out what."

"Unless you're with the authorities, I doubt you will. Like a true Shin'ai descendent, I'm obligated to say the freak eruption might have something to do with Heatran, the demi-god who guards the mountain."

Riley rubs his chin. "Heatran…" 

"I'm kidding, he's just a local legend." Pirika giggles. "It's unusual that an antiques dealer would be investigating an active volcano." Her voice becomes a little more playful. "Just how many kinds of 'business' do you get into?"

Even though she's slathering honey on the wrong tree, he decides to play along. "A little of this, a little of that. Never you mind, Miss Pikki." He grins at her. 

"H-hey!" she protests, cheeks flushing.

"It's cute, it suits you."

She pouts a little. "I don't mind it, really. Just sometimes I want to be seen as a grown-up. I'm sixteen, for heaven's sake."

This surprises Riley, for she's so short and slight that she doesn't pass for it. Just like Ayame doesn't seem old enough to have a teenage daughter. Then again, if he felt what he thought he felt, her age must be true.

He leaves a generous tip in addition to his bill, hoping it helps the struggling restaurant. If his lucario doesn't return by noon, he'll go back for lunch.

}{}{}{}{}{

Riley is the only lunchtime patron of Atuy Kotan. While waiting for his meal, he chats with Pirika, who hangs out by his table. She's turned on the aesthetically inappropriate wall-mounted television for background noise, but neither of them pay much attention.

The only time she leaves is to retrieve his order, another Shin'ai dish of smoked fish and wild leeks. She also brings back a mochi for herself to snack on. Just as she takes a bite, someone enters. "Hi! Welcome to— oh!" she exclaims. Riley looks for himself, discovering his lucario standing at the door.

Silently, he approaches the table. He's dirty and looks extremely weary, and Riley scoots over in the booth to make room for him, giving him a fish skewer. "Bring me another order, please, Miss Pirika."

"Ahh… sure thing." She's not wearing her skates yet, so as she walks to the kitchen, she keeps glancing back. Riley lets his pokemon eat his fill to regain his energy before inquiring as to what he learned.

"Wow… a lucario," remarks Pirika as she returns, sliding into the booth across from them.

"His name is Alhabor," Riley supplies. "He looked around Stark Mountain for me, since I could not pass the blockade."

"Smart. Do you like the fish, Alhabor?"

He polishes off the last bite and gives her a curt nod. Then he hands Riley a small thing: a metal pen, dull and scratched. Has it had been buried in magma? Puzzled, Riley examines the worn engraving, and quickly feels his heart plummet into his stomach. This is proof of the fact he feared.

"Herrera Mining Company," he says, hollowly.

"What does that mean?" Pirika asks.

Riley's hand closes around the pen, clenching into a tight fist. "It means that the company has their eye on the mountain. The mountain that's been under the protection of the Environmental Protection Bureau _and_ the Sinnoh League Association." _The old land in danger._

"They were mining in there, and that caused the eruption?"

Riley frowns. "That can't be. There would have been equipment, and a lot more debris." Alhabor nods to confirm. "And besides, I doubt even Darius Herrera can bribe his way into mining _that_ mountain… so what could he have been doing there?"

"Sounds like you know him personally?"

"Quite personally," he answers darkly. Alhabor echoes his sentiment with a low growl.

They both hear a mention of Stark Mountain on the TV, so Pirika turns up the volume. A news anchor explains how the Environmental Protection Bureau has ruled Stark Mountain's eruption as a miscalculation, a human error. "Impossible!" Riley cries out suddenly, banging his fist on the table.

"Pikki!" Ayame's voice rings out. She comes out carrying the second plate of fish and leeks. "I know we're not busy, but you still have to pay attention."

"Mom, listen." She points at the TV. "It's important."

"This error could cause a notable lack of tourism to the Battle Zone this summer, as trainers and vacationers alike won't want to risk another unexpected eruption," the anchor continues. The camera cuts away to a street interview with various people in Jubilife City expressing concerns over taking their families to a now-unstable island.

"Oh no," Ayame says quietly, dreadfully.

"That's not good," Pirika adds.

"It's worse than just not good. I—" The restaurant owner glances at Riley and his lucario, her sole patrons. "I've been going over the books since yesterday. The only way we're going to pull through is with the summer boom… and that's if we're lucky. If there's even the slightest decrease as they're predicting…" 

Though Riley is still brooding over the presence of the Herrera Company, and the fact that the unown's message rang true (and what that must mean for Khaled), he still hears Ayame's bad news. He looks up at her standing over his table. "Ms. Hidaka… I'm so sorry."

"Then this is the perfect time for me to enter the tournament!" Pirika exclaims.

"It most certainly is not!" her mother scolds. "I'll need you here more than ever!"

"No, see, if I win enough gym badges, I could get scouted and earn a ton of money! Which I'll send back to you!" Pirika hops out of the booth. "And if I get really good, I can enter the tournament in August, where all the top winners earn a fortune!"

Ayame sighs. "I know you want to, but you don't even have a pokemon to train, let alone a team…"

"There's Maren!"

"She's our dishwasher!"

"Which means her water gun is perfected!"

Mother and daughter stare each other down. "I don't see it happening," Ayame says. "We can't afford to send you to Jubilife, let alone get a trainer's license."

"That's where you're wrong. I've been saving my tips. There's not quite enough yet, but I might be able to make it before the end of registration next month."

"I—" Flabbergasted, Ayame looks to Riley, as if begging him to reason with her child.

"Well," he starts, "successful competitors do make a comfortable living… before they even enter the tournament. Like she says, advertisers love to scout up-and-coming pro trainers. And big companies will sponsor those who earn multiple gym badges."

Ayame scowls at him. "Well, until you find me some wait staff who will work for free, it's out of the question." Without another word, she heads back to her office.

Pirika plops down in the booth with a sigh. "Thanks anyway. I meant it about sending her all my earnings to help… I just want to train some pokemon and travel around Sinnoh. I'm tired of being cooped up here. Can't enjoy the beach if you have to work all the time for next to nothing."

Riley pats her hand. "Traveling with pokemon is one of the best ways to spend your time, trust me." He looks to his lucario by his side, who has been helping himself to the second plateful. "When I was your age, Alhabor and I were training ourselves in Johto."

"That's what I should be doing." She sighs again, more heavily. "I'm always taking care of the pokemon that our guests bring here. Everyone says I'm good with them. I even trained Maren myself to wash dishes."

"Seems to me that if you can do that, you can train another to take your place."

"Heh. That might bring in some business, a pokemon waitress."

"I've seen it done. I think you can succeed in this, Miss Pirika." In squeezing her hand, he picks up hints of her aura. It's enough to confirm what he sensed yesterday, which he must keep to himself.

She smiles shyly. "Thanks, Mr. Torres. You can call me Pikki if you like."

"Very well, Pikki. It's Riley, by the way."

"Now that you have a lead on Stark Mountain…" she says cautiously, pointing at the pen on the table, "will you be moving on?"

"I'm afraid so. I'll get to the bottom of it one way or another."

"Good luck, Riley. And have a good trip to Canalave."

"Thanks. I'm honestly a bit nervous about that."

"Got one of your different kinds of 'business' there?" She grins.

Even Alhabor looks at Riley expectantly. "I must be getting transparent," he admits.

The door opens again, this time with human patrons. As Pikki springs to action, showing them to a table, Riley watches her with growing fondness. He sticks the cursed Herrera pen inside his jacket pocket, pulls out one of his own, and starts writing a note to her on a piece of scrap paper.

He leaves payment for the two dishes on the table, as well as a tip large enough for a new trainer's license fee. Then he and Alhabor slip outside without a word. Riley dons his hat to shield his eyes from the bright spring sun.

It seems the divine hand of fate has brought him to the Resort Area; he's glad he stopped here first, despite learning that the danger was caused by none other than Darius Herrera. He wishes Khaled could be with him to investigate matters. The two of them, putting their minds and wits together, could get to the bottom of anything.

However, Khaled has his own mission, his own fight from here on out. And Riley has not been close to forgetting the main reason for his return to Sinnoh — not to confront Herrera, not to unveil the Azure Flute, but to reunite with someone who is more important to him than anything.


	3. Chapter 3

It's taken more than one broken cell phone for Byron to learn that if he has to throw it out of frustration, he'd best throw it at soft furniture. His latest one bounces safely against the couch cushions as he paces back and forth across the living room, mulling over the argument he's just had with his son. He gives in and hastily packs a change of clothes into a duffel bag. He's going to Iron Island as planned, forget Roark if he's too _busy._

Byron doesn't _need_ to go all the way to the tiny island when he runs one of Sinnoh's most challenging gyms. Just that he considers the abandoned mine his own personal training ground, and the little cabin beside it his second home. He _is_ partial owner of the Iron Island mine turned pokemon habitat, after all, and it's his duty to check in on it once and awhile. Some of the members of his gym accompany him from time to time to train against wild pokemon in the rough terrain; typically he comes alone, spends a few days in his cabin, taking a break from city life. 

His pokemon workout routine is hard and good, tiring him out so he can no longer think about things. It's not dark yet, but he decides it's time to head back for the evening. He's glad to see his old cabin, but not so glad to discover someone waiting around for him.

"Can I help you?" he calls out none too kindly to the stranger who has interrupted his solitude.

The man had been gazing idly at the cabin, and he now turns and removes his hat, the same blue as his jacket. One side of the wide brim is in tatters, as though it's seen its share of adventure. "Byron," he says softly, by way of greeting.

The gym leader lowers his defenses. He knows this person on the spot; at the same time, he barely recognizes him. "Riley?" He hurries to him, staring incredulously. 

Riley turns his hat over in his hands, fidgeting. "I'm back."

"You're back!" With a triumphant laugh, Byron pulls him into a rough embrace, thumping his shoulders. "Sorry, kinda sweaty," he apologizes when Riley gasps.

"No, that's quite alright." He's grinning wide, and tucking strands of unruly black hair behind his ears as the wind blows it every which way.

"You got tall!" Byron exclaims, realizing that his once-scrawny apprentice now stands an inch or two above him. He's filled out some as well.

"Ten years will do that to a person. You look good. Still training as hard as ever, I see. What is this?" He tugs at the edge of Byron's well-worn, tattered brown cape.

"Protects against dust that flies everywhere when you battle wild pokemon in a labyrinth of caves." The gym leader demonstrates by shielding his face with one side. Sure, it looks silly, but it's better than getting sand, chips of rock, or even metal shavings in your eyes. What's he supposed to do, wear goggles all the time? At least his cape can also double as a blanket for when he feels like taking a little break.

Riley chuckles. "Clever. May I challenge you?"

"You a match for me now?" Byron smirks. "We'll have to do it tomorrow. My guys and I are worn out." He unlocks the front door. "C'mon, come in."

"I stopped by your gym first, and was told you were here…" Riley's voice trails off as he steps inside, eyes sweeping around the cabin. "Wow… it hasn't changed a bit, has it?"

"Not really."

"I'm glad." Riley's gaze circles back around to Byron. There's something purposeful in his electric blue eyes; the way he holds in his breath means he's here for a specific reason, bearing some kind of news. Even Byron can tell this. Why else would he show up unannounced after so many years?

"I, uh," he breaks the silence. "Lemme take a quick shower, then we can catch up. Alright?"

"Alright." He smiles, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on a hook by the door, along with his hat. The plain black turtleneck he wears is ornamented by a large gold pendant shaped in some sort of glyph. It's an unusual manner of dress, though perfectly suited for the stylish Riley. "I'll wait and go on a nostalgia trip looking at the stuff you've kept here."

"Heh. Help yourself to drinks if you want."

Byron spends his shower remembering how, ten years ago, he, Roark, and Riley lived in the cabin for several months. It was just after he'd become gym leader, a position he'd taken after the iron mine shut down, costing him his livelihood. Though primarily interested in preparing his eight-year-old son for a life of pokemon training, he found himself with a teenage protégé as well. Riley had left home and begged Byron to toughen him up after too many altercations with his father. Byron agreed because he'd butted heads plenty of times with the man, and was all too glad to give Riley a helping hand.

Then, at the end of the year, Riley declared he would set out on his own with his lucario, now that he was a legal adult. He wanted to see the world, and with his steel-type training, he was more confident in his defenses. He definitely developed the confidence to confess to Byron— 

He shakes his head, splashing water on his face. It's obvious to look at Riley, in his expensive jacket and shoes, that he's succeeded in making something of himself. He probably doesn't remember the foolish things he said as a teenager.

When he returns to the living room, in well-worn but clean sweatpants and t-shirt, he finds Riley looking through a handful of old video games. "You keep these here?" he asks, amused.

"Yeah. Roark likes 'em. He played a bit last time…" When _was_ the last time? Definitely before autumn got cold. Around Roark's birthday? Six months ago?

"How is he doing? Does he like being a gym leader?"

Byron grunts. "Not tryin' hard enough. Keeps losin' his matches, and he won't train his team 'cause of the mine." 

Riley sets the games down. "Well, you said he got promoted to foreman right before he became the leader. That's a lot of responsibility all at once."

"Mm. He should delegate mine work so he can focus on the gym. I told him he needs to come back out here and train this weekend, but he said no. He's gonna lose his title at this rate."

"Cut him some slack." Riley chuckles. "It's only been a month, right? He'll work everything out. He's a good kid."

Byron grunts again. "You shoulda come back and applied for it."

"I don't want to settle down in Oreburgh, of all places." Riley wipes dust off the TV stand with a handkerchief. "And besides, you should have emailed me back after I turned down that invitation. You should have emailed me more, period."

"Yeah… not good at that." Byron heads to the kitchen, pulling two bottles of dark ale from the fridge. "You wanna drink?"

Riley pauses. "I'd better not. Last time I drank, things went a little overboard."

"Uh oh, that sounds like a story." He carries both bottles to the couch and plops down. Though exhausted from training and relaxed from the shower, he's eager to hear of Riley's exploits.

Riley brushes crumbs from the cushion and sits more properly beside him, not like someone who has lived here and should be more at ease. Is the cabin too messy for him? Too simple now for someone who has attained such worldliness? This is where Byron can hardly recognize his former apprentice, who carries himself with much more confidence and grace. For what reason has he come back, if he's so uncomfortable?

His intense eyes are on him again. "Byron… there's so much I have to tell you. I spent a long time waiting for the right moment to come back to Canalave, and this isn't how I imagined it at all. I didn't want our reunion to be marred by such unpleasantness."

He takes a long drink. This can't be good.

"You heard about Stark Mountain, right?" Riley continues.

"Mm. Terrible. Glad no one was hurt."

"I went there first, to investigate. Alhabor did the actual investigating for me. He found physical evidence of the Herrera Mining Company. And beyond that, he sensed a presence at the volcano from days before. Herrera himself was in Stark Mountain, and he did something to make it erupt. And I'm certain he made sure the media reported a cover story."

Byron ponders this for a moment. "Yeah, I wouldn't put it past him."

"I can't believe he would go himself for that kind of grunt work. He couldn't have been scouting the mountain with the intention of mining it, could he? He'd destroy the whole island — he might as well set up operations in the heart of Mt. Coronet itself! I wonder, since you worked for him for so long, if you have any idea what he might have been doing in there?"

"Nope." Byron takes another drink. "Surprised you're askin' me. I haven't had anything to do with him in years. You should talk to Roark, he's his boss now. And gym sponsor."

Riley looks startled. "The company sponsors his gym?"

"Mhm. I dunno what gave Roark more leverage, having a veteran for a dad or Herrera's offer to back the gym."

Uncharacteristically, Riley slumps back into the couch. His eyes fall on the unopened beer bottle. "That would have never happened if I applied, huh?"

"I figured that was the main reason you turned it down. The coal mine is the whole city."

"Yeah." Riley frowns pensively. "I should have gone to Roark first. I just…" He sighs. "I'm really losing focus. Getting involved in this is screwing everything up."

"Oh?"

Riley locks his fingers together, staring at his hands as he folds and unfolds them. "Khaled and I made a major discovery. We were going to come back to Sinnoh as heroes, and then I was going to see you. But something happened, and I had to go to Stark Mountain, and now _he's_ involved…"

Byron isn't sure if Riley is being cryptic, or he's just not following. "Who's Khaled?"

"Haruba Jones, the globe-trotting archaeologist."

"Oh yeah? You work with him? You emailed once about treasure hunting."

Riley smiles, relaxing a little. "You remember that? I do. Or, I guess I did. We had a good couple of years adventuring around the country. Now he has an errand to run in Kalos before bringing our find to Sinnoh."

"How'd you ever meet a famous archaeologist?"

"I got him out of jail."

The succinct response makes Byron laugh. "Damn, Riley! You've been up to some shit over the years, huh? How 'bout the romance department? How many hearts did you break?"

"None, I'm afraid." Riley closes his eyes, looking a bit resigned. "I'm the one who got heartbroken, years ago."

"Uh oh."

Riley gives in and snags the bottle. He fails to open it with the bottom of his shirt, so Byron twists off the cap for him. Riley sips, and blinks. "It's strong."

"Imported. Thought you'd appreciate it."

"Ha, I do. I warn you, I'm kind of a lightweight."

Byron is still curious about the story of Riley's last drunken escapade that was hinted at, but his guest deftly shifts the topic around. "How about you?" Riley asks with a sly smile. "Surely you started dating since Roark moved to Oreburgh?"

"Uhh…" Byron doesn't appreciate this direction. "Naw. Thought about it, but… naw."

"And why not? Surely the respected gym leader who keeps his body in top shape could get anyone he wants."

"Jus'... never got the chance," Byron lamely answers.

" _How_ long has your son been gone? Three years? It's high time you got back out there."

He grumbles, knocks back the remainder of his drink, and considers another. Byron is no lightweight, and if they're discussing this nonsense, he's going to need a lot more alcohol. "I'm not one for datin'," he yields, since Riley clearly wants an explanation. "Where'm I supposed to go, anyway?"

"I know for a fact that Canalave has multiple bars for every type."

Byron scowls. "That kinda thing's not for me. Why are we even talkin' about this? I'm gettin' another drink." He scuffles to the kitchen.

Riley looks guiltily amused when he returns. "I'm sorry. I just hate to think of you being alone all this time."

"Mmn. Just how it is. Got my pokemon and my gym and my son, s'all I need." A son that he sees less and less as time goes on. He pushes that afterthought away.

A moment passes while Riley finishes his ale. His cheeks are already red; he wasn't kidding about his tolerance. He sets the bottle down and smooths his pants around his knees, deliberately. "Byron," he says in a tone that's even more serious than the Stark Mountain matter. "The reason I'm really here is to say… my feelings for you haven't changed."

The older man almost chokes. Riley looks over at him; traces of his sensitive fifteen-year-old self are there. "I did my best to move on all this time. I had my serious relationship and my fill of casual encounters. But I never forgot about you, nor what I sensed we could have back then."

Byron has no idea how to handle this admission. Or any affairs of the heart, for that matter. This explains why Riley was probing into his barren love life, the crafty bastard.

"I had always planned to come back to Sinnoh to win your heart, now that I'm an experienced adult. Even amidst all this other business," he sucks in his breath, steeling his resolve, "I won't leave Canalave until we go on at least one date."

The longer Byron looks at him and his earnest blue eyes, the hotter he feels his face getting. "Gods, Riley," he mumbles. "What'm I supposed t'say to _that?_ "

"I—" He draws back a little. "I would hope you say yes."

"I don't… _date._ Goin' out to restaurants and bars and stuff, can't do it. Not with another man. That kinda thing's private." He hurriedly takes a long drink to drown out his embarrassment.

"Well… what if we had dinner at your place? Can't get much more private than that." Riley smiles, turning on the charm.

Whatever response Byron is trying to utter comes out as incoherent grunts. He hasn't been hit on in some twenty years, and he has no idea what to say. What _should_ he say in this situation, on the spot? What should he tell his apprentice ( _former_ apprentice), who, at fifteen, made a similar, albeit more innocent, proposition?

}{}{}{}{}{

It's hard for Roark to concentrate on his paperwork when he's still replaying the fight he had with his father in his head. He argued that he couldn't go to Iron Island because of work; here he is, not working.

To be fair, he has a ton of things to get done, which he listed off to Byron on the phone: wrap up the reports, survey all the vents, and check over the heavy equipment. An inspector representing the Herrera Company is arriving Monday, so Roark has to make sure everything is perfect. In between all this, he must find time to oversee repairs to his gym before his next battle.

Byron doesn't seem to understand that Roark must prioritize his more important job. He is very young to be a foreman, and he must prove he can handle it. He got the promotion for being the mine's resident pokemon expert, helping his fellow workers train their pokemon to assist with workloads. Now every miner has a geodude or machop to dig in tight places, smash boulders in the way, or carry heavy loads. There's been fewer accidents and increased productivity.

Roark is proud of his accomplishments, and genuinely glad for the chance to be the new gym leader. His father, grandfather, and great-aunt, two of whom are part of the Sinnoh League, are delighted that he's following in their footsteps. But he can't make them, or at least Byron, understand that his foreman duties are more important than those of the gym. Gym leaders might be local celebrities, teachers, and city pokemon officials, but they aren't typically responsible for the safety of dozens of men and pokemon who travel deep into a coal mine five days a week.

He figures Byron will realize this sooner or later. His dad is stubborn, but will eventually come to his senses. _Eventually._ He should be even prouder that Roark is working so hard at being his own man.

Plus, he's had to sacrifice a lot. He hasn't visited the Oreburgh Mining Museum in weeks, for one thing. That was the reason he moved to the city in the first place, to study fossils there and volunteer with the revival technology. But he got a job mining to support himself, and now he's in charge. It's kind of funny.

And then there's the fellow rock-type gym leader from far away who never emailed him back. He contacted her when he first got the position, after looking up the profiles of leaders all over the country. He thought she might be able to share some pointers, or that perhaps she'd like to come all the way to Oreburgh to check out the museum, since fossils were listed as an interest on her profile. After weeks of nothing, Roark is pretty sure he should give up.

It's painfully disappointing. But likely for the best. If he lacks the time to train with his father, he definitely has no time to date, not even long-distance.

Roark stares at the paperwork that's been eluding him, takes off his glasses, and rubs his eyes. Maybe he should call it a night and start early tomorrow, though there's so much else to do— 

His beeping cell phone makes him jump. "Dad, I swear…" he mumbles with irritation, snagging it to check the caller. He answers quickly and professionally, as it is definitely not Byron.

"Evening, Roark. How's everything going?" a cordial older man's voice asks.

"Just fine, Mr. Herrera. I'm anticipating the inspector's arrival, and I think he'll be pleased that everything's in order."

"I don't doubt that. I'm calling on gym business, not mine business."

"Oh." Roark's heart sinks. He's still not over the earful Byron gave him over losing so much.

"Don't sound so worried, son. I know you're brand new at the gym game." Darius Herrera sounds truly sympathetic. "I just want to check up on you, make sure you're doing alright with your training. A new leader can't afford to lose too many times in a row."

"I know, sir. I'm sorry. I train my pokemon every opportunity I get when I'm in the mine. I, uh, actually would have gone away this weekend to train exclusively with my dad, but I'm held up with all these pre-inspections. I'll make sure my cranidos gets in his zen headbutt practice when I'm checking out the backhoes. Not saying I'll let him headbutt those, of course. Not again."

"Good, good."

Roark is greatly relieved that his boss and gym sponsor isn't yelling at him. Then again, he's so far found Mr. Herrera to be the reasonable sort. Roark suspects that Byron's complaints from when he worked for the man at the Iron Island mine were greatly exaggerated.

"You did pass the gym leader test with flying colors," his boss reminds him. "And you've no shortage of talent for pokemon training. Runs in your family, as it were. So what seems to be the trouble?"

Roark sighs. It's easy to blame his lack of training on his job, but he knows the true answer. "It's these kids that waltz in with their water and fighting types. It's like they hear about my weaknesses and grab some pokemon to exploit them. And I… don't really have time to figure out ways to counter those, let alone teach my team all new moves and perfect them. All I can do right now is get stronger with what they already know. Zen headbutt is my best bet against those machop."

"Hmm… tell you what. I'll send you a technical machine that should help you out," Mr. Herrera suggests.

"Oh no, I couldn't ask you to do that, sir…"

"Nonsense! What are sponsors for?" He sounds amused. "Just promise me you'll put it to good use, and soon. I just might come down there myself to watch it in action."

Roark gulps. "Sure thing. You're welcome at my gym any time."

"You're a good boy, Roark. You get some rest this weekend. A routine inspection is nothing to stress over."

He ends the phone call with a heavy sigh of relief, laying his head on his desk. That went so much better than he expected. He decides to take his boss's advice and save the paperwork for morning, so he can go pass out in his comfy bed right away. Maybe he can find time to call his dad this weekend and make sure he's not sulking all alone on Iron Island.


	4. Oreburgh Arc

It's on the national news: _Sacred Artifact Finds New Home in Sinnoh Museum._ The Azure Flute, a Shin'ai ritual object carved out of bright blue stone said to be significant to Arceus, is the most important archaeological discovery of recent years. Who else but Haruba Jones could have discovered it buried in the ruins of an ancient temple hidden in the Holon Mountains? 

Jones cracks jokes during his interview, playing it off like it's not that big a deal, like he does this sort of stuff all the time. He gives the credit to an unnamed partner, whom he claims figured out the flute's location based on a series of clues. He wears a beat-up hat and doesn't appear to have shaved for his first television appearance in years. He has fully charmed the lady reporter.

Aden glares at the television, at Jones's smug face and the interviewer's flirtatious banter. Everyone at the Hotel Verity's communal breakfast is watching, generally with the mildest of interest over their morning coffee. _That's a flute? Huh,_ he hears someone remark.

"So what's next for you?" the reporter asks, leaning a little closer to Jones. "Surely you won't disappear from the public eye again after this."

"Don't plan to," he answers with a grin. "I'll be here and there throughout Sinnoh. Got some business to take care of. Personal stuff." The look he gives her suggests he's going to invite her on some personal stuff once the cameras are off.

Aden scrapes back his chair and leaves his breakfast unfinished. _Now,_ of all times. _Now_ he shows up in Sinnoh. Just as Aden is about to begin his journey. If he runs into that asshole during his travels… he doesn't know what he'll do.

He storms out to take a walk around the lake, trying to calm down. His anger is what got him in trouble in the first place, and the reason why he must collect all of Sinnoh's gym badges. He has to maintain control if he wants to succeed on this particular mission. Besides, Sinnoh is vast and mostly rural, as regions go. The chances of meeting the man in person are slim.

Lake Verity is large, still, and soothing. Aden takes a deep breath, distinguishing scents of pine and spring flowers. Everything is fine. He thinks of his new pokemon — a replacement partner — and how he might enjoy a swim in the lake so long as he, too, keeps his cool.

The red gyarados interrupts the morning calm with splashing and roaring, making flocks of starly fly off with a started din. Aden keeps a watchful eye on him. He does seem to be enjoying himself, so that's a good sign. The temperamental pokemon and would-be trainer haven't really bonded yet. Likely gyarados resents being confined to a ball now; Aden resents everything he went through to subdue the beast. Now they're stuck with one another. The first rule of pokemon rangers is to befriend, and to keep at it until trust is gained — Aden will adhere to the code, even if he is no longer a ranger. 

"We'll still have to be friends if we want to get those gym badges," he says. "You hear me, Red?"

The gyarados is not paying attention. Aden's not sure if his pokemon likes the nickname. He thinks it's kind of corny himself, but isn't sure what else to call him. Crankyfins? The Bane of Fall City? Destroyer of Backstabbing Ranger Leaders? If only that were true.

Aden closes his eyes, trying to wipe the recent past from his thoughts with each measured breath. That incident was weeks ago. Everything will be fine.

But gods help him if he crosses paths with Haruba Jones, his sworn enemy. Meditation forgotten, his heart starts racing. Simultaneously, as if mirroring his emotions, the wind picks up. It's not that unusual for mid-April, but Aden cracks open one eye anyway. A gust is spiraling around the gyarados's body, carrying leaves, pine cones, and other natural debris. Of course, lake water starts weaving into the twister next. Gyarados roars with what he's created.

The tiniest sound from behind gets Aden's attention. Two kids hover at the edge of the woods. One holds up a camera, having snapped a photo of the rarely-colored gyarados in the midst of using his fearsome draconic powers. If they are aware of the danger, they're too distracted by gawping at the colossal pokemon.

"Stop!" Aden yells at his gyarados, waving his arms. "Stop it right now! Not here, dammit!"

The red pokemon glances curiously at his trainer. The twister slows, water splashing in a ring around his body. Aden checks for the children, who remain in place, awestruck. "Get out of here!" he barks. They spring to life and scurry away.

Frustrated, he runs his hand through his hair. This is going to be one hell of a journey, and it's only his first day. He hasn't even gotten his trainer's license.

}{}{}{}{}{

As she gets off the bus, Pikki does her best not to marvel at Jubilife's huge, flashy downtown. It's sleek and bustling, the likes of which she has never known. She forces herself to focus on finding the pokemon center above all else. Then she can go sightseeing here and in just about every city throughout Sinnoh — she's about to become a licensed pokemon trainer.

And it's all thanks to the generous tip from Mr. Riley Torres. Pikki thinks of his note, which is tucked away in a pocket in her backpack. _Miss Pirika — here is a little something that might help along your journey. I apologize for leaving in a rush, but I'm certain we'll meet again soon. I'm eager to see that dishwashing water gun for myself._

Even though she knows it by heart, she kept it. Riley's handwriting is so nice to look at, suitably tidy and angular. He might be too old for her (though she's not really sure exactly how old he is), but she likes him anyway; she can't wait to meet up with him and show off her pokemon. She can't wait to _catch_ pokemon for the purpose of training to win battles. She's already had some practice catching a bidoof and baltoy, spending the past month training them to replace her and Maren at Atuy Kotan. Her mother is worried about this gamble. But Pikki is confident she'll succeed one way or another, earning enough to keep the family restaurant afloat for another year. After all, she trained those two wild pokemon in a matter of weeks.

The center is packed. It's a whirlwind tour through various rooms for getting information entered in the system, having a profile photo taken, being issued a pokedex, and watching a short video about the rules of the Sinnoh League Challenge and annual Battle Tournament. The nature of gym battles is briefly touched on, as are concepts of balanced team building, setting personal goals, and forming friendly rivalries to keep motivation strong.

 _Rivals,_ Pikki thinks with a nod, eyes glued to the screen. _I want to make a good friend who will be my rival._

The brand new trainers file out of the center, chattering excitedly to one another. Pikki scrolls through various screens on her pokedex in order to get the hang of using it. And she wants to get a look at her license, the thing for which she's waited so long. It's digitally stored in the handheld computer, and will appear as a holographic interface in mid-air for ease of view. Pikki can hardly believe it — just like the movies.

She's so enthralled with her new technology that she slams into someone's side. As a short person, she's susceptible to being jostled in a throng. Her victim swears out loud. "Dammit! Does _anyone_ watch where they're going?"

"I'm sorry!" Pikki cries. "It's too crowded!" She notices he has his pokedex out as well, looking at his own hologram license. Perhaps _he_ needs to watch out as well. She's about to close and pocket her device when she realizes the license it's displaying is not her own. "Um…" 

"Huh. Looks like we traded information. Wonder what that's for." At least now he sounds intrigued rather than annoyed. 

Pikki reads his identification. "Aden Rohan Lawley… from Pueltown, Almia? Neat." She smiles up at him. According to his birthdate, he's a little over a year older than she, which is a relief when most of these new trainers are all of eleven. If he didn't wear such a sour face, he might be attractive: dark hair, darker eyes, a broken-in brown leather jacket that makes him look like a well-traveled adventurer.

"Hmm." He pushes different buttons until the projected image vanishes. "Ah, okay." Snapping his 'dex shut, he turns on his heel.

"Hey, wait!" Pikki calls out, trotting after him. "So, um, you think we older trainers ought to stick together?"

"Older?" He pauses to skeptically size her up and down. 

"I'm sixteen!" She huffs. "I thought you read my license."

He smirks faintly. "My bad. Look, I gotta get out of here. I don't need any of this fancy stuff." His eyes fall to the booths that have been set up around the center, pitching name-brand shoes and athletic wear, sports drinks, pokeballs with special properties. Eager eleven-year-olds swarm the displays. "I just want to get moving to the first gym."

"Are you ready for it? They say gym leaders are tough, so you've got to train as much as you can."

"They _say_ that for the video so it sounds good. But I heard this first guy is new, and a total pushover. One water gun, and you're out the door with a badge in hand." He rolls his eyes. "Something tells me that beating the Sinnoh League will be a piece of cake, which is fine by me."

Pikki sighs. "I'm trying to ask you for a battle, Aden. Like those guys." She points at various kids who have paired off to compare starting pokemon.

"You want to battle _me?_ " 

"Well, yeah. I kinda thought… since we're older, and have each other's information anyway…" she suggests shyly, "we could be rivals?" 

Aden looks away, sticks his hands in his jacket pockets, blows a strand of hair away from his face. "Look, I'm not in this for rivals and buddies. I'm not even in it for the tournament. I'm just gonna get my badges and go back home. Besides, I don't think you're quite on my level."

The more he resists, the more Pikki wants to win him over. That was part of her special waitress training, after all. "Well, appearances can be deceiving. Not only am I sixteen, but I'm a pretty good trainer. A water trainer, even. I'd sure like it if you could evaluate my star pokemon, see if she's ready for that first gym. Since you sound so experienced."

He keeps staring off in the distance for a moment more. "Alright," he concedes. "But let's move away from this crowd."

There's a park near the center, where some of the new trainers have migrated. Other Jubilife citizens are there enjoying the mild spring afternoon. Aden moves to stand a few yards away. "I hope you're ready!" Pikki calls to him, holding out a great ball. "Come on, Maren!"

Her marill materializes from the ball's bright beam. Maren squeaks and hops in place, eager to be in a new town, learning new skills. Pikki is proud of her already. With her already-precise water gun, she's bound to have an advantage over brand new trainers and their brand new starters.

Aden doesn't say anything, or react much at all. He almost seems hesitant. For a second Pikki wonders if he's got a fire-type that will be instantly doused by Maren's jetstream. Just as she's thinking she'll have to go easy on him, he releases a serpentine pokemon that towers above the trim park trees. Red as blood, mouth wide open bearing fearsome fangs as he lets out a limb-shaking roar.

"O-oh," Pikki whispers, trembling almost as much as her marill.

They've attracted an audience, mostly on account of the rare red gyarados. This is no time for Pikki to back down. She insisted, after all. "Okay, Maren. We can do this. Defense curl!"

"Water pulse," Aden orders simply. Maren curls her already-round body into a rounder, tight ball, holding her ground as she's sprayed with a huge blast of water courtesy of the gyarados's gaping maw. Her ears twitch and she seems dazed, but is otherwise still standing. 

"Good job!" Pikki cheers. "Now let's put your specialty to good use! Water gun!"

"Dragon rage," says Aden indifferently. Maren's steady stream is met with a powerful indigo blast reminiscent of flames. It breaks up the water gun and hits her, sending her flying backwards. She smacks into the back of a bench, lands face-first on the ground, and lays still.

Aden's apathy is quickly replaced by utter shock. "Oh shit," he mumbles.

"Maren!" shrieks her trainer, rushing to her aid. Pikki scoops up the marill in her arms, who lays still. Her eyes are closed tight and she's breathing hard.

Aden pays no attention to the murmurs of the crowd as he recalls his gyarados. He does, however, come up to Pikki. "Your marill okay?" he asks.

"I'm not sure," she answers in a wavering voice. Now that she realizes he was just humoring her battle request, she feels like a fool. She cannot rival this young man, and by the time she gets to his level, he will have surpassed himself twice over. Worst of all, it's Maren who paid the price for Pikki's ego.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for her to hit that bench so hard." He sounds honestly sympathetic, even crouching beside her. "Come on, the center's right over there. I'll take you, and they'll get her patched up."

She follows him in silence, holding onto her marill. Somehow, it seems better this way, rather than send her to the confines of her ball. After handing Maren over to a pokemon center nurse, she sits in the waiting room. Restlessly, Aden stands nearby. He looks out the window, watches TV for a minute, paces back and forth.

"You don't have to stay," Pikki tells him. "I'm sure she'll be fine… physically." She's more worried about how Maren will handle battling in the future. She's never been involved in more than the occasional easy match between tame pokemon from restaurant guests. Getting annihilated by a terrifying gyarados in her first real battle will surely damage her pride.

"You're not gonna… seek reparation?" Aden stops pacing, his back to her. 

"Huh? You said you didn't mean it. You've stayed this long, I know you're sorry."

He sniffs casually. Maybe he's the strong, silent type, Pikki figures, and doesn't want to admit his feelings. "If anything, we're going to train harder so we can battle you again later," she continues, making her voice more cheerful.

"You should forget about me. I'll only cause you trouble."

"What? No!" She leaps out of her chair. "You're my rival now, Aden. I have to beat you one day!"

"I told you, I'm not here for fun and games. Go find yourself another rival." He heads for the door.

Pikki grabs for his arm, gripping the leather sleeve. He turns to her at last; there's conflict scrawled all over his face, a storm in his eyes that might break if she holds on. Respectfully, she steps away.

"You _are_ a good water trainer," he says, voice low. "You'll be fine against that first gym leader." And with that, he departs.

She stands there for a moment, wondering what happened to Aden to make him act so standoffish when it seems, deep down, he's a caring person. As soon as a nurse appears to tell her Maren is fine and she can retrieve her, Pikki races to her marill, putting off thoughts of her would-be rival until later.


	5. Chapter 5

The Oreburgh Gym is nearly in ruins after the most recent match.

There's a big hole that's been blasted through the ceiling. Roark joked to his assistants that they were halfway to getting a skylight installed. "You want to put a huge glass window in a gym where we chuck rocks around?" one asked in disbelief, missing the sarcasm. Now that he's looking at it more closely, he wonders if he can get away with using that as an excuse to the Sinnoh League Association. He's wracking his brain to come up with explanations as he waits for a representative to show up and assess the damage.

Said representative clearly has no sense of humor, so Roark decides against it. The man takes detailed inventory of the damage, from crushed bleachers to collapsed entrance. Roark tries to assuage him by saying that he runs a whole mine full of pokemon trained to haul boulders and clear debris, they can clean out the mess in no time, for free.

"The damage itself isn't the problem," the rep says, going over his clipboard full of notes. "We've already notified your sponsor. Of course he'll cover everything. You're lucky there." He lowers the clipboard and fixes Roark with a steady gaze. "But you won't be for long if this losing streak continues."

"I know. I'm working on it, I promise."

"It's important to teach trainers how to battle, and to issue them your official badge so they may be a step closer to qualifying for the tournament," he drones on. "But you must not forget your position and duty to the League. Gym leaders are their region's strongest for a reason. Your sponsor isn't going to keep funding a gym that gets a reputation for losing."

"I realize, but—" 

The man holds up a hand. "Yes, we're aware that you and Mr. Herrera have a close working relationship due to the coal mine. But he is a businessman first and foremost, and he will not be lenient on you if your gym is bad for his business."

Roark holds back a response. He knows this. He's been afraid of it, even. 

"Now, it's been two months since you were named gym leader. The League has been watching you closely to make sure you live up to your potential, and, well…" The rep trails off politely. "We're _not_ going to dismiss you. We're aware you have a rather demanding second job. And frankly, your image is good for Oreburgh City."

He isn't quite sure what that means. He's too caught up in holding his tongue to argue that being a foreman is his _first_ job.

"However, as the son of a veteran leader who is a valued member of the Sinnoh League, we do expect a turnaround, and soon." He's still going on. This is a lecture and a half. "Summer rush has just kicked off. With more challengers, there will be more chances for you to improve your battles and defend your title. Okay?" He forces some enthusiasm at the end.

"You got it," Roark says, equally forced.

"Good. Now that we've got that out of the way…" The representative turns towards the gym, adjusting his glasses in a judgmental manner. "What in heaven's name happened here?"

"Ah…" Roark scratches the back of his neck. "It was a trainer with a gyarados. A red one! I don't know if being red made it stronger or angrier or what, but _whew._ " He exhales heavily. "I think he might have lost his handle on it? Otherwise it wouldn't have shot a hole in my ceiling. You would have lost to it, too."

"I… see…" says the rep in a concerned tone.

"It's true! My cranidos just learned the perfect move to bring it down, but it was too strong for that, even." He decides not to mention that the new move came courtesy of Mr. Herrera's technical machine, which was delivered to him clandestinely. "Honestly, whoever let a brand new trainer start out with a gyarados needs to be questioned."

"What makes you think he was a new trainer?"

"Because I checked over his license just like I'm supposed to. Issued days ago. And when I asked if he'd ever been to a pokemon gym before, like in another region, he said no." Roark's work phone buzzes in his pocket, so he checks the caller ID. "Hey, uh, they're trying to get hold of me at the mine, so can I…?"

"Yes, we're done here. Thank you for your time, Roark."

"No problem."

The weight lifts off his shoulders as soon as he gets into his truck. He sits for a moment, fishes his personal cell from another pocket, and turns it off. It won't be long until his dad hears about his crushing defeat, and he's not up for that conversation anytime soon. Besides, it's not like anyone else would be calling this number. He sighs, drops the phone on the seat beside him among a pile of junk mail, and starts the engine so he can drive to the mine. At least he'll have a few days off from the gym while it gets repaired. And perhaps, at last, he can dig around in the Underground or even check in at the Mining Museum's fossil department.

}{}{}{}{}{

The last thing Aden wants right now is to be back in Jubilife. He willingly backtracked here after hurrying out of Oreburgh, being that the easier route to Eterna City is through Sinnoh's capital. He reasons he'll stock up on potions and snacks while he's here; a quick trip to the pokemon center and back on the road, towards the nice, quiet Eterna Forest.

But Aden had no sooner set foot in the city when two people from the Sinnoh League Association stopped him and insisted they escort him to their headquarters. That's when Aden knew he was in trouble. The League wouldn't send two goons to fetch him and flank his sides if they just wanted a friendly chat. He needs to steer clear of populated cities, he decides, silently riding the elevator with the two SLA members. Nothing but camping out in the wilderness this summer except when he has to visit a pokemon center or challenge a gym. Nobody needs to know of his whereabouts otherwise.

He's escorted into a boardroom and left with two different people: a middle-aged, humorless looking man with round glasses, and a younger, sharply-dressed woman. "Have a seat, please," she says curtly. "Do you know why you're here?"

"No, I do not," Aden answers, testily looking from one representative to the other. "They didn't tell me anything." He suspects that was the point, to ensure he made it to the meeting.

"Mm," the older man hums. "Let me start off by asking you this: you're aware of the amount of damage you caused to the Oreburgh Gym? The gym leader expressed his concern of a beginner going around Sinnoh with an uncontrollable gyarados—"

"You mean the rock-type gym leader who used a _thunderbolt?_ " Aden shoots back. "That wasn't fair! My gyarados is twice as weak to electric moves! He got hurt and pissed off!"

The woman holds up a hand for silence. "We encourage all gym leaders to think outside their element. Thunderbolt is precisely what's needed to combat water pokemon, a natural enemy of rock-types."

Aden scowls. Either the newbie leader caught on to the game quickly, or the rumors about him were untrue. He seemed like such a rube, too. What kind of League makes a gym leader out of a coal miner?

"We investigated this because a brand new trainer, no matter how old he is, should most definitely _not_ be using a gyarados, of all things, for his starting pokemon," glasses man continues. "I wasn't sure how you got it registered until I checked out your file." He looks up from his clipboard. "You have quite the background, Mr. Aden Lawley."

His anger gives way to apprehension. He grips the arms of his chair.

"A graduate of Almia's Ranger School and an area ranger stationed in Fall City, Fiore for quite a long time," the man reads from his clipboard. "Until you were terminated for citywide destruction from failure to subdue a rampaging pokemon… following charges of assaulting a fellow ranger?" He adjusts his glasses while giving Aden an uneasy look.

"That part isn't true!" Aden smashes a fist on the table. "She set me up, she and Joel together!"

"Don't jump to conclusions, Mr. Lawley," the woman interjects. "Joel, your leader, was the one who presented your case to us and petitioned for you to start with your gyarados — the same gyarados that was responsible for all that property damage. His goal is to see that you train it to become an obedient pokemon worthy of becoming your partner."

"Because he took my partner away from me!" Aden leaps from his chair, banging the table again. 

" _A violent temperament synced with the red gyarados via capture styler, leading to massive damage that was as much the ranger's fault as it was the pokemon's,_ " glasses man reads from his file. "It goes on to say that your partner pokemon was confiscated as compensation. Looks like your battle earnings will go to repairs in Fall City as well… provided you get sponsored and continue to win your gym matches _without_ tearing apart the buildings."

"I'm afraid none of the big sponsors are going to want to support a trainer with your history, Mr. Lawley," the woman adds, a touch more sympathetic. "We called you here—"

"We called you here to let you know we're going to keep an eye on you," her associate interrupts. "You've been given a generous chance to redeem yourself. Anger management issues, destruction of property, assault… these are serious offenses. You may have been authorized to get licensed and keep a dangerous pokemon, but one more damaged gym or report of… _incidents_ , and we'll take those away and ban you from the Sinnoh League. Do I make myself clear?"

Aden is still standing, which is just as well, because he's done with this meeting. "Fine," he mumbles. "I guess I'd better get started on my training." He storms out of the boardroom and hurries into the stairwell, having no patience for the elevator nor the desire to wait around for it where they can come after him.

How _dare_ they act like Joel is some hero for giving him a "second chance"? That arrogant prick who orchestrated his fall from the beginning? Aden stalks across town, not even knowing where he's headed. He thinks of Aria's fine acting as she cried into Joel's arms and lied about the night they had spent together. The way he pretended to console her, the way both of them, haughty and blond, faced Aden with looks as plain as day: _we've got you now._

He remembers how he fled to the docks, betrayed and hurt. At that very moment, a red gyarados burst forth from the water and unleashed his dragon rage upon the harbor. Aden grabbed his capture styler, immediately trying to calm the angry pokemon by circling the corresponding capture disc around his body, which would transmit soothing waves dependent on the ranger's will. Apparently all Aden could share was his own fury. The gyarados slithered through the harbor, Aden clinging to his back in a last-ditch effort to halt it, though at the same time secretly hoping those indigo flames would strike the ranger base and trap Joel in the heart of the inferno… 

The memories burn inside him. That condescending meeting adds to the fire. Aden doesn't register any of his surroundings, all is a red blur to his eyes — same as the gyarados that now appears outside his ball. Did he let himself out? Aden neither knows nor cares. He only knows that the hostile pokemon will destroy their surroundings. He gives permission without saying a word.

And then the dragon rage stops before it's barely begun. Fiery blasts and gyarados alike are perfectly still, frozen in time, by a softly glowing aura. Aden blinks. The red fades from his eyes. He's in the park, the place where he battled that girl and her marill. A terrified crowd whispers among themselves, averting their gazes whenever Aden looks their way. 

A metallic pokemon on four spider-like, robotic legs glares. It's surrounded by the same pale aura — using psychic to hold the gyarados in check. Beside it, a man in blue has his arm outstretched in silent command, eyes clenched shut, breathing in ragged gasps.

With a gnawing feeling in his gut, Aden recalls his gyarados back to his ball. The suspended dragon fires fade into harmless tendrils of smoke. Metagross's trainer opens his eyes, his body slumping from mental exhaustion. Aden knows this is a good time to run, but the second he spends lingering over whether or not to say something is all the other trainer needs to approach him.

"Lucky for you I've done this kind of thing before," is what he says. "Stopped a rampaging pokemon, I mean. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Aden glowers. "I don't need anyone else riding my ass, that's what. Leave me the fuck alone!"

"Hey." Someone roughly grasps Aden's shoulder from behind, jerking him around. A muscle-bound man with wild hair and dark eyes under thick brows that match Aden's glare. "Be a little more grateful. He just _saved_ your ass."

Aden wrenches away only to back into the first man. "I know you," he says more gently than his associate. "I bumped into you in Pueltown."

"Well, I sure as hell don't know you, stalker," Aden growls, shuffling away from both of them. 

"Tell me what's wrong. I might be able to help." He extends a hand.

"Mind your own business!" This time Aden doesn't hesitate to bolt. He has to get the fuck out of Jubilife before the SLA hears of this near-incident and has him arrested.

Byron folds his arms across his massive chest. "Dumb kid."

Riley sighs heavily. "I swear I'm meant to know him. Two random meetings have to be the work of fate. I think—" He pauses. "I'm not sure what to think." 

"Well, the next time fate has your paths cross, send him to me. I'll straighten him out."

"That might be when he comes to challenge your gym. I think he's the red gyarados trainer Roark told you about."

"Really." Byron narrows his eyes. "I sure as hell can't wait to avenge my son." He pounds a fist into his hand.

Riley pats his back. "Shall we go see him? We're close to Oreburgh, you know."

"Mmn." Byron lowers his hands with a grunt. "Naw. Not… not yet."

"You want to head back, then?"

"Yeah. What's for dinner?"

Riley gives him a deadpan look. "If you're suggesting I make dinner after all these meetings in Jubilife today—"

"Wouldn't dream of it. I meant, what do you wanna pick up?"

"Oh. Of course. I'll think about it on the way."

Byron shakes his head slowly. "Already pickin' fights. I see how this is goin'."

"Not at all!" Riley slips his arm around Byron's and squeezes. "I just thought that's what you wanted, since you enjoy my cooking so much."

The gym leader's rugged face flushes as he looks around. "C'mon, not in public," he murmurs. 

Riley releases him with an airy laugh. "Then let's go home."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back to the eponymous Mr. Jones?? Amazing!!!
> 
> Information about Holon can be found on my [dreamwidth blog](http://magnetism.dreamwidth.org/15851.html).

Khaled should have expected a legal meeting as soon as he appeared on television. Returning to Sinnoh with the Azure Flute was going to be his great career comeback, of course he'd need a lawyer on his side. What he never could have anticipated, however, is a lawsuit from his ex-fiancée — of some eighteen years ago. Just another serving of her endless revenge.

He stands outside the business complex, clutching the manila envelope fat with papers, staring listlessly at the busy street. The only way to settle this and keep his name out of the press is with a lot of money. Khaled has no problem with this, except he hasn't got any at the moment. He and Riley partied away the last of their riches on New Year's Eve. Gods, if that wasn't a wild few days. And gods, what he would give for Riley's calm presence to keep him from being fucking pissed off while they schemed a way to come up with more money in a short amount of time.

Riley should be in Canalave by now, Khaled figures. He's past due for meeting up with him, so the logical course of action is to hurry there and start planning— He pauses in the middle of his agenda. If Riley has accomplished what he set out to do in Canalave, Khaled should leave him alone. It's selfish to automatically rely on his friend to bail him out of this, just because he's been doing so for a long time now… 

_The cop on duty strolled to his cell. Khaled scowled from behind bars. These Holon hicks have been so tickled to lord their authority over him, he couldn't be too sorry he had a hand in ruining one of their villages. But the cop scowled back at him, no taunt on his lips this time. In fact, he held keys. He actually unlocked the door, standing by to hold it open._

_"Go on, get out of here."_

_Khaled sat still. "What're you playin' at?"_

_"Don't ask me, ask your generous buddy. He just posted your bail."_

_Confused, he got up slowly. He sure couldn't think of any friends who would come all the way out here for him, but he wasn't going to let this guard know that. Exiting the cell, he held the man's contemptuous gaze, ready to fight if this was some sort of trap._

_Waiting by the police station's entrance, gazing out the window, was a young man Khaled didn't recognize. He couldn't be more than twenty, twenty-one, too young to be any of his acquaintances. But he was dressed sharply and holding a wide-brimmed hat, so he obviously had money, somehow. Probably some trust-fund brat who was a fan of the globe-trotting Haruba Jones. As he turned to face the newly-freed prisoner, Khaled realized he **did** recognize him. He was the skilled trainer who had appeared in the midst of destruction and captured the rampaging tyranitar — the one Khaled had failed to tame._

_The cop gave him a shove. "I said, get out of here." So Khaled gave him one last dirty look and followed the trainer in blue out of the station._

_"Alright," he spoke after they walked away in silence. "What is it? You want an autograph? You paid a steep price."_

_"Well, that would be quite a reward." He had a soft, genteel voice. "I did it because you don't belong in prison. It wasn't really your fault."_

_"Hmph. If you say so, kid, but I **did** rouse a hibernating tyranitar from the mountains to try and capture it for my own purposes."_

_"Was one of those purposes to raze a humble village to the ground?"_

_"Nah. Nothing of value in this part of Holon."_

_The young man smiled. "You're a good man, Mr. Jones. That's why I got you out of prison."_

_"Oh, you think so? What makes you so sure?"_

_"I can tell by your aura."_

_Khaled stared at him, trying to figure out if he was screwing with him. "You're a weird kid, but a hell of a trainer. I can't believe you caught that son of a bitch."_

_"I'm going to keep him, and train him. Then I'll give him back to you."_

_"Ha! No thanks. I changed my mind." Khaled was grinning, but it faded fast. "I'm not looking forward to this trial."_

_"I could help you pay off the damages."_

_Again Khaled stared at him. "Who even does that? What do you want?"_

_His answer was a mysterious smile, and Khaled didn't know whether to be annoyed or intrigued by his clearly wealthy fan. He would make a valuable resource, however._

_After the trial was all settled, Riley reluctantly showed him a damning article from a Sinnoh newspaper. "Haruba Jones Destroys Holon Farming Town: by Maya Lawley." Khaled seethed as he read it, finishing by balling up the paper and flinging it aside. "She sure pounced on that story. She just couldn't wait to ruin me."_

_"The writer?" Riley wondered innocently._

_"My former fiancée… from ages ago. She's still out for my blood after all this time. Looks like she got it. There's no way I can come back from this." At Riley's sympathetic gaze, Khaled bitterly asked him, "Do you know what I did to deserve her revenge? Still think I'm a good man?"_

_"I do. I want to help you get the money you'll need."_

_"Oh, come off it already. Stop spending your inheritance on me and go… backpack across Kalos or something."_

_"I don't have much of an inheritance," Riley admitted._

_"Bullshit."_

_"It's true. All I own is a small island in Sinnoh that's little more than a wild pokemon habitat now. Other than that, I'm a disgrace to the family business and name." He smiled bleakly._

_"Then where's all your money come from?"_

_Riley shrugged. "Odd jobs, treasure hunting. Sometimes convincing buyers that a treasure is far more valuable than it's worth."_

_Khaled gave him a shrewd look. "I respect that."_

_Grinning, Riley replied, "I think it would be fun — and profitable — if an seasoned explorer such as yourself were to join me."_

Khaled snaps out of his memories as he's approached by someone. This is hardly unordinary; ever since that television interview concerning the Azure Flute, his attention has been requested by everyone from archaeology students and professors to lovely female admirers. Sadly, this most recent person is male and looks to be all business, dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase. "Khaled Jones, correct?" he greets brusquely.

"You have to ask?"

The man smirks. "I've been sent on behalf of my boss." He hands over a business card. "He has a proposition for you." 

Khaled glances at the card, raising an eyebrow. "Go on."

"It's something best discussed in private. The most I can say is that your talents would be useful to him, and you'd be compensated handsomely."

"Well, now you're speakin' my language." He grins. The trip to Canalave will have to be delayed a bit longer, but for a good — albeit complicated — reason.

}{}{}{}{}{

The International Canalave Marketplace is swamped, typical of a weekend in late April. Mustering all of his patience, Byron steadies in his arms two bags of groceries that keep getting heavier as Riley adds ingredients from each booth he visits. He would really rather catch up on his training at the gym — he's been uncharacteristically lax these past few weeks — but with each item purchased, it means another delicious meal is in the works. For that, Byron can put off his training, as well as endure this crowd, a bit longer.

His mind wanders a bit before he realizes he's lost Riley. "Aw, geez," he mumbles, having to push past a bunch of bodies to search. He finds him at an overseas-based booth decorated with colorful scarves and gold accents, smelling of spicy incense.

"There you are," Riley says, as if Byron is the one who fell behind. "I was just wondering if I should get some coffee."

Byron glances at the tiny ornate cups, copper pots, and packs of imported beans for sale. He shrugs, feels a bag slip, and hoists it up quickly.

"Here." Riley relieves him of it. "Oh, it is rather heavy. I guess I got carried away. Next time," he says to the vendor. "We'd best head back before I buy anything else."

They're silent as they weave through the crowd. A lot of people are saying hello to their local leader, surprised to see him away from the gym in the shopping district, of all places. Byron feels self-conscious. He does his best to just say hello back and not think too hard about it, even though he used to bring Roark here all the time in the past.

"Sorry I took so long," Riley says as they come to the marketplace's end. "We've been staying in so much, I got a bit of cabin fever and had to look at absolutely everything."

"You don't have to," Byron replies. "Stay in every night, that is."

"But that's what you prefer, you said. I don't mind, it's a relaxing change of pace." He smiles serenely. "I spent so many years adventuring from place to place, never knowing where I would sleep or eat. Fighting the elements, fending off wild pokemon and shady characters…"

"You miss it?" Byron asks glumly.

"Maybe a little," Riley teases. "I'm very glad to be here instead. It's nice to have some stability in my life."

"Mm," Byron grunts, which means _I'm very glad for this arrangement as well, with you._ Riley brushes a free hand along his back, which means he understands.

They've just exited the market when someone taps Riley's shoulder from behind. "'Scuse me, you look like an expert on this place. Can you tell me if they sell halva?"

Riley whirls around. "Khaled!" he gasps.

Byron also turns. The exploits of the legendary Haruba Jones, as well as Riley's tales of his good friend, are not unknown to him. However, it feels like this is the first time Byron can personally put a face to the name. Haruba Jones beams at Riley, sparkling white teeth against a rugged, bearded, tan face. He's only a couple of years younger than Byron, Riley has said, but he doesn't look it.

"You're late," Riley scolds, lifting his chin.

Khaled laughs merrily, clapping his shoulder. "Wait 'til you hear why!" 

"Sounds promising. Khaled, _this_ is Byron." Riley places a hand on his bare arm. He's satisfied to be included at last.

"Hey there, Mr. Gym Leader." Khaled sticks out a hand. "This guy never stopped talking about you, so I'm happy to see you two are, uh…" He glances at Riley for clarification. "Right?"

"Right," Byron answers quickly, shaking Khaled's hand in a firm grip.

"You _are_ strong!" Khaled rubs his hand when it's released. "Steel body, that sign doesn't lie!"

Byron doesn't respond, though he can feel his lover's eyes intently watching him. Hastily, Riley asks, "How was your trip? Did you talk to Olympia?"

"Yeah," says Khaled in a much more somber tone. This only lasts for a second before he brightens again. "I'm not too worried about what she said! Or about what Maya's doing to me now! I'm about to make a goddamn fortune!"

"I— wh—" Riley stammers, confused. 

"Yep, bringing that Azure Flute to Sinnoh is already changing my luck." Khaled guides the conversation. "I've just been hired by a wealthy individual to find three certain relics and dig up some various treasures along the way, right here in Sinnoh. And that's all I can say!" He grins conspiratorially.

"Here? That's incredible!" Riley exclaims. He looks like he's ready to jump up and down. "Where are you starting? Close to Canalave? Can I assist in any way?"

"Sorry, bro, I gotta do this one on my own. Trust me." He pats Riley's shoulder again, leaning in a little closer. 

Riley is obviously disappointed. Byron feels his stomach tie into knots, and promptly catch on fire when Khaled speaks again, his voice dropping ever lower. "Did you… get a chance to do the thing I asked?"

"Ah!" It takes Riley a second to process. "I did. I found one… before I came here…" He glances at Byron, looking the slightest bit guilty.

All the machismo drains from Khaled's face, like he wasn't prepared for that answer. "Oh…" he utters, barely a whisper.

"I promise I haven't forgotten," says Riley. "I'll be on the move again soon, to keep looking."

That's the last straw for Byron. But just as he opens his mouth to argue, Khaled gets ahold of himself, flashing another brilliant grin. "Take your time! I have pressing matters to attend to before I can get to all that. Let me treat you two to dinner tonight! Anything you like!"

"We've got dinner." Byron seizes Riley's arm. "An' we need t'get it home. C'mon."

"We can drop this stuff off in the fridge and still go out," Riley suggests. "Khaled has to go soon, tonight's his last free night."

He releases him, glowering. "Then _you_ go. Enjoy yourselves. Stay away from the drink menu."

"Byron!" Riley hisses. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothin'." He grabs the grocery bag from Riley's arms. "I'm goin' home." He stomps away.

"Wait here a minute," he hears Riley say to Khaled, who has miraculously kept any snarky commentary to himself. Riley catches up, trying to pull him to a stop. "Dear, _calm down,_ " he whispers, gently but firmly.

"I _am_ calm," Byron rumbles, and it's true: he's ready to blow up, and Riley has no idea how lucky he is that there isn't a scene being made in the middle of town.

"What are you even mad about? Going out again? Or going out with Khaled? I was hoping you two would get along. You have a lot in common, actually."

"Like what? You? Bad enough you're dyin' to go off with him, or leave to do him favors, but you _lied_ to me about it not ten minutes ago!"

Riley steps back. "I think you're greatly misunderstanding. I don't want to go with him, I just asked if I could help in any way. And the thing I have to do, I'll tell you about it in great detail later. I'd like it if you came with me, even."

"I want to know _now._ " 

"When we're alone," Riley insists. "Honestly, Byron. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were—"

He pauses as Khaled approaches. "Hey, uh, clearly you two have some big dinner plans that I interrupted, so I'm gonna take off." He thumbs over his shoulder. "We should all go out for a drink later, yeah? I'll be back in Canalave in the near future."

"Can't we talk tomorrow?" Riley springs to ask. "At least tell me who you're working for."

"No can do, to either. I'll let you know when I'm here in town again. Then maybe we can catch up properly." He turns to Byron. "You be good to my bro now, big guy."

"Mmngh," he manages to answer.

Riley lets out a sigh as his friend departs. Then he takes a crumpled grocery bag from Byron's arms once more. "Let's go home, and I'll tell you everything." 

Byron stares after the great Haruba Jones until he disappears completely. "He's up to somethin'."

"How do you mean?"

"Changin' the subject all the time, not sayin' who he's workin' for… seems shady to me."

Riley frowns. It's clear he's torn on what to say. "Treasure hunting can be a secretive endeavor," he finally replies, a tad facetiously. "I trust he'll share the details when the time is right."

"Hmph." Byron thinks he sounds awfully gullible, which is not at all like him, but decides not to pursue.

"Come along, dear," Riley says in a most authoritative tone. "I'm going to explain what I'm doing for Khaled and how you can help. Then I'm going to make us a delicious dinner and show you just how happy I am to be settled here in Canalave."

"S'alright, you don't hafta go to th' trouble." He's embarrassed by this sudden topic.

"Too bad, I'm showing you anyway." Riley gives him a light swat. "But before we get into that, I'll start by telling you about Khaled and Maya…"


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll be with Pikki in Oreburgh for a few chapters. She and Aden won't get detailed accounts of every one of their gym matches, however… I wonder what's so special about coal town???

After days of training on the road to Oreburgh City, Pikki and Maren both feel more confident about their battling. Additionally, they've gained a new team member who should be of great assistance in the rock-type gym. With her many goals ever-present on her mind — earning this badge, catching up to Aden, reuniting with Riley — Pikki faces the doors of her first gym, takes a deep breath, and strolls in ready for victory.

An assistant welcomes her to the newly-renovated gym and informs her that the leader isn't available for challenges right now, as he's working at the coal mine. Pikki is welcome to head down there, as the miners welcome pokemon trainers and might even take a break for a quick battle. The assistant gives Pikki a hard hat with a Coal Badge sticker on the side, which will mark her as a trainer who's checked in at the gym. The mine has safety rules, requiring head protection.

"Huh," she says to herself as she leaves, staring at the helmet. "This town sure is big on coal." She appreciates that the hat is light blue, matching her hoodie. She tries to get all her supplies and accessories matching in her favorite color, and is still disappointed that her trainer's license is shaded pink.

She wonders if that's why she was initially attracted to Riley: he was all blue, even his eyes. Pikki sighs. She will likely have to get over him, as there is a chance she may never see him again. Or maybe he's taken. Or maybe he's— regardless, there's no way a sophisticated, traveling, multi-tasking antiques dealer is going to be interested in a teenage waitress who looks younger than she is. Why did he have to be so generous and charming?

"Focus," she tells herself, shaking her head. "Battles first, boys later."

The mine is far bigger than she imagined, with all kinds of huge machines making a racket. Some of the workers moving about are accompanied by machop, even a couple of machoke carrying equipment. She's going to feel woefully out of place asking these men, hard at work, to battle with her. But she didn't come all the way out here for nothing. And the gym assistant said she'd be allowed. 

The miners, whose helmets are all yellow and fixed with safety lights, welcome her to train. One with a geodude challenges her, so she sends her new pokemon to fight: a teddiursa. She found him gorging himself on honey in a tree on her way to town, and captured him to use fighting-type moves against the rock-type gym. Though he's lazy and grouchy, he's picked up the brick break maneuver pretty well, and makes quick work of the geodude. Because his attitude reminds her of Aden, Pikki has named him Rowan, similar to his middle name.

After a few more battles just inside the mine, she begins to feels at ease. The workers have all taken a shine to her; one even outright says she's adorable but tough just like his own daughter. Maren is much more eager to battle than Rowan, so Pikki retires the teddiursa to his great ball to rest while the marill gets to walk beside her. 

The mine gets naturally darker the deeper she goes, even though lamps strung along the rocky ceiling provide light. It feels spooky, and maybe even a little dangerous — is it truly safe for the average trainer to wander around here? How often are there rock slides? Pikki suspects that's what the geodude are trained for; a pokemon with a stone body wouldn't get much more than a scratch.

Then she's facing the most enormous slab of coal she ever expected to see in her life, all unearthed and ready to be chipped away for gradual removal. To Pikki, it's an impressive monument to the work that's being done here. She walks around the giant black ore, eyes fixed up on it, wondering how long it took how many pokemon and men to excavate it.

"You enjoying your tour?"

Though the voice is friendly, it startles her and makes Maren squeak loudly. It had been so quiet, she didn't think anyone was down this far. The lone miner gets up from where he was sitting on a rock. "Didn't mean to startle you. I was just taking a little break."

"I see. Would you like to have a battle before you get back to work?" Pikki tucks her hair behind an ear, fingers brushing the edge of her hard hat. In the dim light, she can make out that his hat is red, the first of its kind she's seen. His shaggy, somewhat long hair is also dark reddish. Clad in grey and smeared with black, these colors stand out.

"I'll have to decline, sorry." He takes note of the marill hiding behind Pikki's legs. "I'm working on a new move with my geodude. Check this out." Another rock at his feet stirs and levitates. "And please stand back. One, two… rock smash!" The geodude channels all focus into one fist, which glows white. It punches the base of the coal slab, sending countless pieces of the mineral flying. Pikki crouches to shield Maren.

The miner winces. "You okay? It's a great move, perfect for demolishing rocks where our tools can't reach. So I thought it could be used to break up this coal faster, too. I'm trying to get Geodude to tighten his punch so he can do it without losing a bunch of coal all over the place." He sighs while his pokemon floats away to collect the pieces.

"That _was_ pretty cool." Pikki stands back up, holding her marill in her arms. "And a really good idea. That punch… is it a fighting move?"

"Yeah. If you challenge the gym leader, you might be able to learn it." 

"I _am_ looking for him. I was told he works here." She sets down a squirming Maren. "Do you know where I might find him?" 

He grins, pushing up his glasses. "He wasn't at the gym, huh? Looks like you had a miner setback." At Pikki's blank look, he chuckles weakly. "You… you get it?"

She blinks, then giggles. "Oh! Wow, that was bad."

He laughs again, this time relieved. His smile, with perfectly straight teeth, lights up his youthful face. He's _really_ cute underneath that red hard hat and layers of grime, Pikki realizes. "Sorry, couldn't resist. I'm the gym leader. My name's Roark."

"You are?" she asks with disbelief. He seems so young, but it's like Aden said: the Oreburgh leader is new.

"Yep! They call me Roark _the Rock._ " He pushes back a short sleeve and flexes his arm. His muscles tighten and bulge, particularly the large bicep. Pikki gasps softly at the sight: this man with the pretty face and gorgeous smile boasts strong, solid arms sculpted to perfection by all that coal-shoveling and cart-pushing. She desperately wants to feel them holding her small body. Any suave blue-clad businessmen residing in her daydreams have now been permanently replaced.

"I'm kidding, nobody calls me that," he says humorously, lowering his arm. "I put it on my gym sign and everything…"

"I'm…" she says quietly, trying not to blurt out _I'm yours._ She fidgets as she stares up at him. Her heart pounds so hard she can feel it between her ears. "I'm… Pikki."

"Pikki?" Roark repeats, breaking out into a grin. "That's the cutest name I've ever heard."

Her face burns hot as she realizes what she's done. "Pirika! _Pirika!_ " she corrects, mortified. 

The geodude floats over, carrying an armful of coals. Roark pats the top of his head. "Okay, Pirika. Is it alright if we have our battle first thing tomorrow? I like to schedule gym matches for mornings."

"S-sure," she replies, still blushing. 

"Good. See you there at eight?" 

Maren waddles up to Roark carrying a single piece of coal. He takes it, crouching down to pet between her ears as thanks. She leans into his hand, pleased with herself. Suddenly jealous, Pikki looks around to see if she can pick up any, until she remembers to answer. "Oh! Yes. Eight a.m., bright and early."

"Heh, I know. But that's when my day starts."

"Well then, somebody had better rest up." Pikki is still eyeing Maren, who's relishing Roark's attention. She recalls the marill back to her pokeball, leaving Roark with his hand hovering in mid-air. He chuckles, rising to stretch out his back. "Same here, I think I'm about done for the day. Can you find your way back out?"

"Yeah, I'm sure—" Pikki stops herself. "Ah… maybe? I took quite a few turns down here."

Roark sends his geodude back to his own pokeball. "Wouldn't want to get lost. I'll come with you."

Pikki listens with rapt attention as he chatters about the mine, and points out spots where treasures were discovered, like pokemon-specific precious stones and fossils. Suddenly she feels a deep appreciation for what miners do, especially given the hazardous conditions. It's clear that Roark is proud of his work — or just very excited by discovering things other than coal in the walls.

She's actually disappointed to reach the mine's exit. "Here we are," Roark says. "If you're interested in learning more, the Oreburgh Mining Museum is right next to the pokemon center. Their fossil wing is especially fascinating. I should know, because I work with them whenever I get the chance."

"I'll have to check that out." Pikki waits while Roark waves to the miners that greet him. He seems to be well-liked. "So… I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yep." He tilts his hard hat back with his thumb, smiling down at her. "See you then."

She all but floats back to town. Taking note of the big museum next door, she checks into the pokemon center, where she can room for free thanks to being a licensed trainer enrolled in the Sinnoh League challenge. Dreamily, she waits for an attendant to give her a key card until her attention is caught by the subject of conversation between two female trainers waiting in line behind her.

"Are you going to challenge the gym now that it's open again?"

"Yeah, I should. That's really the only way to see Roark, isn't it? I want him to ask me out…" 

"My neighbor said she tried everything to get him to notice her. She dressed up, talked to him, and fought him. Then he just gave her a badge and went back inside. Like he didn't get any of her hints. She told me he's the clueless sort, you probably have to throw yourself at him. But she decided it wasn't worth that much effort."

The first girl sighs. Pikki is handed her key card and steps to the side, pretending to look through her pokedex so she can hear more.

"Are you talking about Roark?" the attendant asks the girls. "He's so nice… and cute. Now that he's the gym leader, we see a lot more of him around here."

"She can't get through to him, either," the other attendant chimes in, smirking. "And my sister, she even brought him cookies she made herself. He ate them, but didn't ask her out or anything. Face it, he's as dumb as a box of rocks when it comes to women."

"It's a shame, he'd make such a good boyfriend. He's got a good job, he's reliable, friends with everybody…" She sighs, echoing the younger trainer's disappointment.

"Yeah, but would he really be boyfriend material if he doesn't pay attention to you? Doesn't notice when you dress up for him? Waste of time." This attendant sounds a little bitter, perhaps on behalf of her sister.

"Maybe he's seeing someone already?" one of the girls suggests. "Or he could be… you know." She trails off, leaving it open to interpretation. Her friend groans, adding, "That explains it."

"Hmm, I dunno," the first attendant says. "There are rumors about his father, but… Roark doesn't seem like it. He probably just spends all his time thinking about mining and fossils."

"Ehh? His father, the super-manly steel expert?" The girls start giggling uncontrollably.

Pikki slips down the hallway towards her room. This is valuable information. She starts to wonder just what she can do to capture Roark's eye as she sheds her blue hoodie and studies her reflection. She might be short and flat as a board, but she has years of experience flirting with men at the restaurant to earn her gratuity. He likes sweets, perhaps. She can't bake anything at the pokemon center, but this is good to know.

She stops puffing out her chest in the mirror as she remembers why she's really here: for her first gym badge. _Battles first, boys later,_ she reminds herself. Maren's water gun is more powerful and precise than when she fought Aden. Rowan is armed with brick break know-how, and maybe he'll pick up that rock smash move if he pays attention to Roark's geodude. She'll win her battle and impress Roark, just like how she impressed all the older miners. Then she'll move in for another kind of win.

}{}{}{}{}{

Pikki arrives at the gym just as Roark is opening the doors. Even though he's wearing his grey mining clothes with reflective strips, he's clean of dirt and sweat and therefore looks ten times better. Without his hard hat, Pikki can better see his hair in the bright morning sun: a unique shade of burgundy-brown which she finds most striking.

"Hi, Pirika," he greets her. "Are you ready?"

"You bet," she says confidently.

"May I verify your license first?"

She opens her pokedex and displays her license, projected in the air above the device. Roark adjusts his glasses as he reads it. "Okay, looks good. Resort Area, huh? You've come a long way."

"Yep!" She rocks back and forth on her heels.

"Okay, well, welcome to the Oreburgh Gym." He leads her inside. "You know all the rules? Since you've got two pokemon with you, I'll be fighting you with two of my own. One of my assistants will referee our match." He indicates the young man to whom Pikki had spoken yesterday. 

"I forgot my hard hat!" she exclaims. She's still a little tired, too excited to sleep soundly last night. "Should I bring it back? Do I need it for this battle?"

Roark grins. "You shouldn't. Just keep an eye out for flying rocks. You can take it with you if you really want. We've got tons of them to give out."

Pikki nods, taking her place at one end of the battlefield. The gym has a massive interior with a high ceiling and a wall of bleachers to one side, where the referee stands. Boulders of all sizes decorate the ground, which is marked off like an athletic playing field. Pikki isn't sure what a pokemon gym is supposed to look like, but this one seems a little bare-bones. Though she remembers how the assistant said it was newly-renovated.

The referee raises an arm, then slices it through the air, calling to begin. Roark sends out his familiar geodude, so Pikki chooses Rowan, the rock-breaker. She prays that an official gym battle will raise his spirits and get him to be more competitive. "Use brick break!" she commands.

"Geodude, rock smash!" orders Roark. His pokemon is markedly faster than hers, flying across the field with that glowing fist. He meets Rowan more than halfway between, delivering a punch that sends his challenger reeling back. Pikki's hands fly to her mouth in horror. She had forgotten all about normal-type teddiursa's weakness to fighting moves.

Rowan struggles to get back up, but gives in and collapses. "Teddiursa is unable to battle!" the assistant announces. "The challenger is down to one last pokemon!"

Pikki sends Rowan back to his ball, feeling stupid. She should have trained harder to toughen him up, or sent Maren to deal with Geodude to begin with. She even knew about his fighting move! _Focus, darn it,_ she tells herself, and releases her marill. _Stop staring at the hot gym leader and focus!_ Thankfully, Roark stays quiet, just waiting for her to make the next move, like a patient leader.

"Water gun!" she orders.

"Rock throw!" shouts Roark in response. His geodude tears off a chunk of a nearby boulder and lobs it at Maren. But her watery blast knocks it to the side and douses him thoroughly. Overcome by his weakness, he falls to the ground and fails to get back up.

"Geodude is unable to battle!" cries the referee. "The gym leader and challenger each have one pokemon left!"

"Good move!" Roark calls from across the field. "It's always smart to use a water-type in a rock gym!"

"I've got you now, Roark!" she calls back, feeling more sure of herself.

"That's what you think." There's an almost menacing smirk on his face as he flings out his second pokeball. The one that appears is unlike any pokemon Pikki has ever seen: a small grey dinosaur with a smooth dome-like head in blue. It growls and scuffs its feet, ready to charge but waiting for the command.

"This is Cranidos. He's been brought to life from a skull fossil I dug up myself in the Underground," Roark boasts. "He's a living testament to the power of the fossil restoration department! A pokemon from one hundred million years ago, alive and battling right here in the Oreburgh Gym!" He clenches his fists excitedly.

"We get it, Roark, you love your fossils," his assistant says, snickering. 

"Hahaha…" He scratches the back of his head. "Anyway, ready when you are, Pirika."

His enthusiasm is really endearing, but Pikki keeps her focus so she can wrap up this battle. "Water gun him, Maren!"

"Thunderbolt!"

It's over before she can blink. Cranidos is fast, and if that rock-solid skull looks deadly, it's nothing compared to the peal of lightning he unleashes. The crackling bolt strikes down Maren in an instant. The referee declares her defeated and proclaims Roark the winner. 

Pikki kneels at her pokemon's side, frantically stroking her charred fur. "I'm so sorry! I had no idea this would happen!" Maren angrily bats her hand away.

Roark comes up to them. Pikki feels like a foolish amateur for losing to pokemon over which she has the advantage. Was Aden wrong about him, or was she just that unprepared? Or is this truly the strength of a gym leader… even one who is new to the scene?

"Is she okay?" he asks gently. He hands Pikki a spray bottle which she recognizes as a potion. "Here, give her this to tide her over until you get to the center."

"Thanks," she quietly says, spraying it all over. She sends Maren back to her great ball, wishing she could do the same and hide from all this humiliation.

"You did good. You had the right moves prepared. Just the wrong timing. You're welcome to challenge me again when you're ready."

Standing back up, she hands him the potion bottle. She hasn't been able to look him in the eye since her defeat, so she summons her most cheerful smile and forces herself to. "I sure will! You're pretty strong, but I'll beat you!"

"You know where to find me," says Roark. It almost seems like he's about to hold out his hand for a shake, but Pikki turns on her heel and flees, unable to maintain her facade. Twice now she's lost important battles when she wanted to prove herself, twice now Maren has gotten badly hurt. It stings way worse to fail in front of the handsome gym leader. Maybe she's not cut out for the Sinnoh League after all — which means her goal of saving her mom's restaurant will be lost.


	8. Chapter 8

News of Roark's win spreads around the mine quickly. Anyone who sees him gives their congratulations, and at one point a group of miners takes a break to surround Roark and talk about it. It's exciting to them that their foreman serves as the city's gym leader, and with each win, Oreburgh's reputation gets better.

"Not much of a win when your challenger's a little girl, though," one of the older men sneers.

The others are quick to defend Pirika, saying how tough she is despite appearances. Mason, the older miner, brushes them off, as he did not battle her yesterday. Roark tells them the break is over so they can all get back to work and forget about it. 

The rest of the morning goes by quickly, since Roark spent part of it at the gym. When everyone congregates outside the mine for lunch, Colin, the assistant supervisor who's closest to Roark's age, taps his shoulder and points to someone training among a cluster of boulders nearby: a familiar girl in a blue hoodie and brown shorts, wearing an official Oreburgh Gym hard hat. Roark decides to go say hi to her.

"Hard at work, I see," he comments from behind her. She jumps and gasps, and as she turns apprehensively, he adds, "Sorry. Are you okay?"

"I… I won't bother anyone," Pirika says, a far cry from the confident trainer who beat all the miners in battle yesterday. "I just wanted to train against some wild geodude."

"You're welcome to do that around the mine," Roark invites her. "I promise you won't be in the way. As you might recall, most of the guys are grateful for a battle break."

The hard hat, flattening her bangs, almost obscures her eyes. "I thought I should make Rowan's brick break stronger first."

"Ah, that's smart."

She fidgets a little with her long sleeves. "So, are you on a break or something?"

"Lunch, actually."

"Is it lunchtime already? No wonder Rowan's getting cranky." She removes the helmet and picks up a full plastic bag sitting by her backpack. Her teddiursa rests on the ground, looking annoyedly tired. Her marill appears from exploring behind some boulders, stopping in her tracks when she sees Roark.

"Hi there," he says. "You doing okay? I'm sorry about that thunderbolt." She waddles over to him, and he bends down to pet her until Pirika hands her a dish of pokemon food. She gives the rest of the bag plus a small jar of honey to Rowan. Then she pulls out a bento box for herself, brushing off a rock and sitting on it. "I should let you get back," she tells him.

"Oh, uh…" Roark says, chuckling. "I actually forgot my lunch, what with the gym battle."

"What?! Sit down right now. I have extra." She procures another bento. "In case training ran into dinnertime… but this is more important. You need your energy."

"It's fine, it happens sometimes. I'll be thinking about stuff in the mornings and I forget to make a sandwich or pick up anything…" 

"Then I'm going to have to insist." She holds it out farther to him.

Roark has to laugh at her authority. "Okay, okay." He sits down on a rock beside hers, opens the box, and breaks apart the wooden chopsticks after taking off his dirty gloves.

They eat in silence for a bit until Pirika says, humbly, "you gym leaders are pretty tough, huh? I'm kind of nervous about the whole journey."

"Yeah, we've got a good group right now. To tell you the truth, I'm the weakest of the lot. I've been a gym leader for two months now, and I've only won a couple of times. I was getting in trouble with the League for it, too."

"Really? I'm glad I broke your losing streak, then."

"Heh. I think you'll win next time. Not that I'll go easy on you!"

She smiles vaguely and watches the teddiursa devour his lunch. "It gets so expensive feeding these two," she says, sighing. "Not to mention the brick break technical machine I bought, and just random stuff here and there." She kicks at the ground. "Starting to think I'd be better off looking for a decent job, rather than trying to make it big as a professional trainer."

Guiltily, Roark looks down at his half-eaten bento. "I really shouldn't have taken your dinner."

"No, that's okay. Konbini boxes are nothing. I'm just frustrated because they said trainers with a few badges can get business sponsors, and I'm struggling to earn my first."

He pats her back with sympathy. "I was told trainers sometimes take part-time jobs from town to town. You could probably find something if you don't mind being stuck in Oreburgh for awhile."

"Well, if I _have_ to…" She smiles more genuinely this time, which Roark is glad to see.

Her marill squeaks again from her spot between Roark's feet, declaring she ate all her lunch. Pirika unwraps a treat, which looks like a smooth pink cake, and hands it to her. "She really likes attention, huh?" Roark says, rubbing the top of her head. "Maren, right? You're cute, Maren." She makes satisfied sounds, then takes a bite. "What's she eating?"

Pirika is frowning a bit, though Roark can't figure out why when her pokemon is so charming. "Mochi, her favorite," she answers. "I bought her a few since she was so upset this morning, but it looks like she's feeling _much_ better."

He scratches behind Maren's ears. "Is it pokemon food?"

"What? No. You've never had mochi? They're all over the place." Pirika pulls out a white one. "There's sweet bean paste inside."

Roark is already unwrapping it to satisfy his curiosity. "Can't say that I have… oh man." He chews his bite and examines the filling. "That is so good."

"Save it for dessert!" She smacks his hand as he's about to take another. He laughs and obediently sets it on his knee to pick the bento back up. "My mom makes her own from scratch," she adds.

"Seriously? I want to try a homemade mochi."

"You could order some from her. Actually, that would really help out. She runs a restaurant in Resort Area called Atuy Kotan, and I'd bet she'd be glad for some mail-order business."

"That's an interesting name."

"It's Shin'ai. It means 'village by the sea' — the town's original name."

"Ooh…" Roark drawls. "I've never been up there to the Battle Zone island. Which I really need to do, because all the gym leaders like to compete against one another in some club called the Battleground. I'd like to see a Shin'ai restaurant after that."

"I'd like to show you," she says, tucking her thick hair behind her ear.

Roark finishes up his mochi and is licking powdered sugar off his fingertips when Colin appears. "Hey boss, heads up. Big boss is here lookin' for you." He thumbs over his shoulder.

Roark leaps to his feet, despite protests from Maren. From behind him, he hears Pirika open her pokeball to recall the marill back to safety. Before he can even start to walk to the mining site or his trailer, which would surely be the best place for a meeting, Darius Herrera strolls into the little nest of boulders, directed by one of the miners. Older than Roark's father, always dressed in a proper suit, salt-and-pepper hair kept under a bowler hat, he cuts an intimidating figure. Sometimes Roark is a little afraid of him until they start talking amicably, as if they're related.

"Afternoon, sir," Roark says. "I didn't know you were coming by today."

Mr. Herrera smiles. "Unscheduled stop. Mostly I came to congratulate you on your win today. That thunderbolt give you a leg up?"

"Yes, thank you. You didn't have to take time out of your day just for that. I'm sure there will be more wins this summer."

"I don't doubt it. But a little surprise inspection is good once and awhile. Keeps the men on their toes." 

"Oh, definitely. You want me out there? I just finished my lunch."

Mr. Herrera waves his hand. "No need, my assistants are taking care of it." His eyes shift their focus over Roark's shoulder, and he smirks a little. "I wouldn't want to break up you two back here."

"Hmm?" Roark glances behind him. "Oh, this is Pirika. She was my challenger this morning, and she's here training to battle me again. Pirika, this is Mr. Darius Herrera, CEO of the Herrera Mining Company, which owns the Oreburgh Mine."

"Nice to meet you, young lady." Mr. Herrera holds out his hand.

Hesitantly, Pirika shakes it, looking frightened and trying her best to subdue it. It's not an uncommon reaction to meeting a mining magnate, Roark figures. "Ah…" he speaks to break the awkward silence. "I promise the gym is still standing today. Sorry about all the damage from last time."

"Well, that's to be expected when you pit vicious pokemon against one another," Mr. Herrera says. "I hear the Association had a talk with that gyarados trainer, so I don't think he'll be causing any more trouble. Other gyms really aren't my concern though, right?" He claps Roark's shoulder, then steps back to glance around a boulder at the mine activity. "I think we're about done here. I'll talk to you later, Roark."

"Okay. Have a good day, sir." He watches the man depart, then exhales a deep sigh. "Always a nerve-wracking day when your boss shows up unexpectedly, you know?" he says to Pirika. 

She still looks uneasy, more than she needs to be. "Darius… Herrera?" she asks, keeping her voice low. "That's him?"

"Yeah," Roark says, wondering how a young pokemon trainer from the Resort Area knows his name.

"He came back here just to talk to you?"

"Well, he's the gym's sponsor. He pays to keep it up and running and repaired. Also, since I'm the foreman here, I meet with him a lot about mine business."

"You're the foreman?" Pirika exclaims.

"Yep. I know, I'm only eighteen, but they offered, and how could I turn down a promotion like that?"

Pirika blinks, opens her mouth to say something, then apparently changes her mind. "So, do you know if he was around Stark Mountain last month? During that eruption?"

"Uh… not that I'm aware of. But then again, I don't know what he does or where he goes every day. He's got holdings all over Sinnoh. The Fuego Ironworks, where we ship most of our coal to, is the next largest one. I don't know what he'd have to do with the Battle Zone, since it's run by the Sinnoh League Association." Roark scratches his head. "Why do you ask?"

"Well… a friend of mine thinks he was there, inside the volcano, and that's why it erupted," Pirika explains nervously. "He found something with the company logo. And he knows him personally."

"Huh. I don't know what to tell you. Maybe an employee who was on vacation and hunting for pokemon? Or a business rival from Kanto trying to set him up?" Roark chuckles. "That sounds like a movie plot."

"He said he's a traveling businessman… he claimed to be in antiques but hinted there were other things…" Pirika frowns. "He _was_ kind of secretive. I hope he wasn't lying to me. He was so nice."

"If he's your friend, I would hope not, either."

"I only knew him for a couple of days while he was at the restaurant. Not exactly the best of friends, although he did help me out…" She trails off, blushing. "Maybe if he's in mining, you know his name? Riley Torres?"

Roark's jaw drops. "Riley?! What did he look like?"

"Um, really tall, black hair, nice suit… he had a lucario named Alhabor."

"That's the same Riley! Although… Torres… He technically has a double last name, from both his parents. I guess it's easier to go by one when you move around a lot. And considering…" He shakes his head. "Nevermind, it's not my place to talk about his family. I can't believe you met him!" His excited smile fades. "I can't believe he came to Sinnoh and didn't see me."

"So you do know him? Is he in the mining business after all?"

"Far from it. Riley trained with my dad a long time ago, and we all lived together. He was like an adopted big brother." Roark feels nostalgia grip his heart, for those old days of exploring the recently-abandoned Iron Island mine, playing video games long past bedtime, eating homemade meals the talented Riley prepared all by himself. "Then he set out on his own because he wanted to see the world. He wrote to us, but not for long. Antiques, huh?" He grins. "That sounds about right. My dad always liked antique tools and stuff. Geez, I hope Riley visited him, at least."

"He said he was going to Canalave next," Pirika says. "Whatever he had to do there, he was nervous about it."

Roark throws up his hands. "That's where my dad is! He went to see him! Why didn't he tell me?!"

"Maybe you're next," Pirika suggests optimistically, putting empty bento boxes and mochi wrappers in the plastic bag. "So… a gym leader _and_ a foreman. That's impressive."

She seems to have dropped the concern about Mr. Herrera, for which Roark is relieved. "The League doesn't think so. Neither does my dad — he's the Canalave gym leader, so you'll get to challenge him later. He and the League think I need to focus solely on the gym. But I've worked at the mine for a long time; it's important to me. I'm in charge of all the safety procedures, seeing that the pokemon know what they're doing, not to mention all these people. I can't quit now." He's glad for the chance to vent about his conflicts.

Pirika tilts her head thoughtfully. "That's very admirable. You're a real role model."

"Heh, thanks. I'm glad somebody thinks so."

"Do you have much time for a social life, with all that responsibility?"

Roark snorts, thinking of the rock-type leader who never emailed him back. "No way. I don't even get to the Mining Museum as much as I'd like. But that's how it is. All this hard work will pay off in the future… at least, that's what I tell myself so I don't worry too much that I'm wasting my prime years." He laughs awkwardly, hearing his dad's voice in the back of his mind chiding, _don't be weird, son._

"Maybe… I could bring you lunch tomorrow? So you have one less thing to worry about?" Pirika suggests.

"Oh no, don't trouble yourself. I don't forget _that_ often."

She picks up her light blue hard hat. "But I'd like to come back to train again, maybe battle the miners. And I'll bring you mochi~" She says the last part in a singsong voice.

That gets him, and he thinks about soft, sweet rice cakes delivered right into his hands by Pirika herself. He remembers the time a girl with too much makeup gave him some homemade cookies, and they were so hard and flavorless he didn't know what to tell her. He ended up giving them to his young gym apprentices, who didn't seem to mind. Compared to that, Pirika's offer sounds better by leaps and bounds. "Well, if you say so. But don't go broke for me. I'll pay you back, I swear."

She smiles up at him, swinging the bag in her hand. "Yeah? How so?"

"Uh… wait, I see what you're up to." He shakes his finger at her accusingly, teasing. "You can't bribe me with mochi to get yourself a Coal Badge!" 

She giggles. "That's the furthest thing from my mind, actually."

"Better be." He tries to sound serious, but he's having too much fun. "C'mon, I bet you can get in at least one battle before lunch hour's over."

Colin runs up to him as he and Pirika approach the main area. "Hey, just thought you should know, while Herrera was talkin' to you over there, his men went into the trailer. I think they took some papers."

"That's not a big deal," Roark says, shrugging. "He told me they were just stopping by on their way through. He probably wants to cross-check the shipment schedules."

"Ehh… if you say so, boss. I dunno, it seemed suspicious."

Roark glances at Pirika, who raises an eyebrow. "Hmm. Well, thanks for telling me, Colin. I'll talk to him about it later."

There's a commotion by the mountainside, where all the miners have clustered together. "Oh gods, what now?" Roark mumbles, hurrying to the scene with Colin and Pirika at his heels. He pushes his way through the crowd, asking, "what's going on? Did somebody get hurt?" 

"Nah, this guy just tunneled out of the mountain." One of the men points to a small grey pokemon who sniffs around the rocks.

"Cute lil' thing, I've never seen one before," someone else remarks.

But Roark sucks in his breath. "That's an aron! What's it doing all the way down here?"

The miners shrug and look generally unconcerned. "Aron live farther north, deep in the mountains," Roark explains, exasperated. "They feed on raw ore, but if one's loose in urban areas, it'll eat steel beams, railways… and mining equipment."

That gets their attention, and they all chatter at once. In the center of their crowd, Roark holds up his hands. "Don't scare it off! If it runs back into the mountain, it'll just come out later when we've all left. Don't let its size fool you, it could destroy the mine overnight. We need to catch it."

"I can catch it!" Pirika squirms through the crowd, stopping before Roark. "Please?" she asks, looking up at him. 

He nods. "Alright, guys, back up and give her some space. Come on, she knows what she's doing!" 

They all form a wide circle around Pirika and the wild aron. She sends Maren out to spray it with water gun. It charges the marill to fight back, but she curls herself into a ball to raise her defenses. Then she sprays it with a stream of water again. Soaked and weakened, the aron dashes for the safety of its mountainside hole. 

With this one slim shot for capture, Pirika flings a great ball at it. The ball's energy beam sucks the pokemon inside, wobbles on the ground, and at last lies still.

The miners cheer, gathering around her with compliments. Roark sighs with relief. "Close call," he says to Colin, who hangs back with him. "We're going to have to keep an eye out. Aron shouldn't be showing up here in the south."

"Sure it didn't get lost?" Colin asks.

"Maybe. But aron don't have reason to leave Mt. Coronet. Something may be threatening its home." 

Mason, the older man who doubted Pirika's strength, makes it a point to praise her quick actions and marill's power. She holds the great ball close to her, beaming at him. Then she looks to Roark in the back of the crowd and waves. He grins and gives her double thumbs-up, glad to see she's back to her cheerful self.

Colin nudges the foreman's side. "She's pretty cute, boss," he remarks.

"Heh, yeah," Roark agrees as he watches even stodgy old Mason warm up to her.

"Real sweet, good with pokemon…" he continues wistfully.

Roark gives him a puzzled look. "She's a little young for you. And aren't you seeing someone?"

"Yeah. I'm just sayin', is all. Not like I'd have a chance anyway." He pats Roark's shoulder deliberately, leaving as Pirika eagerly runs up to him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated making this one a side-story, but it 1) defines a lot of Roark's character, and 2) sets up a plot point at the end, in more ways than one. Guess you'll have to deal with this most self-indulgent of chapters. She actually did it, the absolute madwoman.
> 
> I'm referring to in-game HMs as technical machines, which are available for trainers to purchase, rather than laying around hidden in caves and such. They still have a higher status than regular TMs, so they're more expensive and of limited quantity.

Pikki has taken a part-time job at a deli delivering lunch orders by skating through town, and sometimes to the coal mine. It ensures she can financially stay afloat while she trains her pokemon, including her newest team member. She bought a certain pricey technical machine and taught it to Godoron the aron, whom she pits specifically against Rowan. The two of them build up their weaknesses to one another's fighting-type moves more and more every day. Even better, Rowan seems more willing to battle now that he can hold his ground.

The miners are even happier to see Pikki when she visits bearing food. Their tips rival the ones she used to receive at Atuy Kotan, and in a much shorter amount of time; with each day that passes, she considers staying in Oreburgh. There isn't much to the city at all, just a basic small town that thrives on the coal industry, but Pikki would deal if it means staying near Roark.

When she stops by the mine for deliveries or a bit of training, he takes a little break to chat with her. She slips mochi in with his orders. Even if he's not present to receive them, he always thanks her the next time he is.

A week passes before she's ready to take on the gym. Now that she knows what to expect, and has gotten more used to Roark, she won't be caught off guard so easily. Godoron is armed with a secret weapon, even: the rock smash move. She executes it perfectly against Roark's cranidos, being that he's weak to the fighting-type attack, and she can best withstand his thunderbolt. Maren takes out the geodude with one water gun, and she and Rowan tag team to bring down Roark's onix. At last, she's won her first gym badge.

"Good job," Roark compliments her as she admires the silvery Coal Badge in her palm. She pulls out the badge case she was given with her license, placing it snugly in its specially molded spot. It's presently her greatest treasure.

"I can't believe you picked up rock smash so well." There's a little jealousy in his voice. "Usually I teach that…"

"Well, I did see it in action more than once from you," Pikki reassures him.

"Yeah, but Godoron didn't. Which makes you an excellent trainer."

She glows at his praise. For all his humility, he is a battle professional, and now that he recognizes her as his equal, she would feel more confident about pursuing other avenues with him… 

"Speaking of aron," he continues, "I wanted to tell you that we haven't seen any more around the mine yet. It's still possible, we're all watching. But there's also the possibility that yours just wandered too far out of her regular mountain territory, which makes her braver than most aron. You could say she's… a little boulder."

She stares at him, completely deadpan. "Did you just come up with that on the fly? You were sitting on it for a few days, weren't you. She's a little boulder, yeah. That's a good one, Roark." She raises her voice over his laughter.

He has to make himself stop. "Okay, okay… so now that you have your badge, you can finally move on. I'll warn you that the next gym specializes in grass-types, which are strong against your water and rock-types."

Pikki barely hears as it sinks in that she will, at last, have to leave Oreburgh City and him. "I… oh," she replies vaguely. She spent so much of her time training and working that she never got to spend much time with him, and now it's too late. 

"I think you can handle it, though," he says. "So don't worry. You'll only get better from here."

"I—" She's not sure what to say, or how to say it. "Who's going to bring all the miners their sandwiches? I've been making good money, maybe I should stay."

Roark grins. "They'll manage. The deli will hire even more part-timers this summer."

"But I… kind of want to. I like it here…" She fidgets.

"Seriously? I thought you wanted to see all of Sinnoh. That's part of why you became a trainer, right? And you've got three pokemon conditioned for battles. You owe it to them to keep going."

She looks up at him. He's not going to get what she means unless she says it directly. Suddenly she understands the local girls' frustration. However, he's right. Maren probably wouldn't mind staying, but Rowan and Godoron are fighters. She could set them free… she considers it, decides it wouldn't be fair to the pokemon she's worked so hard to train. She still wants a rematch with Aden. She still wants to show Riley that his generous tip wasn't a waste. 

"I know," she replies quietly. 

Roark picks up his red hard hat, which he left by the gym entrance. "I'd better get going." He straps it in place, adjusting the locks of hair that stick out. Then he extends his hand. "Good luck, Pirika." 

She shakes it. The last time she'll feel his firm grip, likely the last time she'll see him. "Thanks, Roark. Good luck to you too." 

He smiles at her, pausing for a moment before letting go. "Okay. I gotta get to work. 'Bye."

"'Bye." She watches him leave for a second longer, then makes herself head for the pokemon center before she does something silly like chase after him. 

While her team gets tended to, she packs up everything from the room she's been living in for the past week. The official Oreburgh Gym hard hat is still sitting on the desk. She takes it, tracing a finger around the badge-emblem sticker. She intended to keep it, but maybe she could return it to the gym and see Roark one last time — although he's gone to the mine now, she'd only be handing it over to an assistant.

She stops by the deli to say her farewells and thank them for hiring her, then on to the pokemart to stock up on potions and great balls. It's almost May, and warm out, so she ties her hoodie around her waist, enjoying being able to wear just a t-shirt. Then she gets a message that her pokemon have finished their checkup. It's time to collect them and leave Oreburgh for good.

She picks up her pokemon in their balls, drops off her hoodie and purchases in her room, grabs the hard hat, and departs for one last errand.

Everyone at the mine is surprised see her, the winner who doesn't need any more rock-type training. She tells them she's here just to say goodbye, not for any other very specific reasons. Supervisor Colin, winking, offers to fetch Roark from deep inside the mountain.

He's wiping his brow with a hand towel as he hurriedly emerges. "Hey, Pirika!" he exclaims. "He didn't tell me it was you. What's up?"

"Sorry to interrupt you at work. I just, um…" She suddenly feels guilty for her selfish mission, though she can't back down now. "I realized I never made it to the Mining Museum's fossil exhibit, and I wondered if you'd like to show—" 

" _Yes,_ " Roark answers before she can finish, eyes wide.

Pikki giggles, hardly believing how easy this is. "Really? After you get off, of course." 

"If you don't mind waiting that long. Plus, I'd have to go home and shower."

"I don't mind. I can't leave without seeing it, for all that you told me. And you should be my tour guide, since you know so much about fossils."

He grins, flattered. "Aw, this is great! I'll meet you at the pokemon center at 4:30, okay?"

"Sure. See you then." On the surface she stays collected, but inside she's screaming because she did it, and he's so _eager_ to accompany her. 

She passes time getting cleaned up, changing into a powder blue t-shirt that fits closest to her torso, watching TV in the lobby, daydreaming too much to pay attention. She goes outside at 4:25 to wait, trying not to bounce in place. 

When Roark drives up to the center, Pikki finds herself amused and oddly fascinated by his vehicle: an old, slightly beat-up, brick red pickup truck. Its bed is full of dust and pebbles, obviously from hauling fossils and other treasures. Somehow, it fits his image perfectly.

Roark pockets his keys. It's the first time she's seen him out of his mining clothes, she realizes: dark jeans, a black t-shirt, and a lightweight olive jacket he's decided to carry instead of wear. His hair is damp and Pikki bets he smells nice, wondering if she'll get the chance to find out.

"You ready?" he asks. "You look excited. Wait 'til you see what they've got at the fossil lab, then you'll really be hyped."

"Lead the way," she says. She has to admit, she's curious as to what's so great about this place.

True to its name, the museum has in-depth exhibits on the process of mining, how coal is formed, displays of tools from past eras, and the history of the Oreburgh Mine. _Coal Mining and You,_ a banner reads. It's all rather compelling, Pikki decides, bending down to read a plaque about a large sample of coal that was carried to the museum by a single machamp. Extracting coal used to be so dangerous, even deadly; she's very glad for workers like Roark who have taken strides to make this necessary process much safer.

He waits patiently while she checks out these exhibits, then guides her to the fossil wing. Its main area is similar to the mining one, with cases of fossil samples and an informative video on loop. Pikki doesn't need to stop and watch the video, as Roark fills her in on facts about each kind of fossil they walk past: what era they're from, the region or even country where they were found, what type and class of pokemon they were. He's a walking encyclopedia of prehistoric knowledge. Pikki is impressed, even a little overwhelmed. There is no way she will retain all of this trivia. 

They move on to the restoration department. It isn't for the general public, but since Roark is a longtime volunteer, he and his guest are granted access. It looks like a laboratory for performing complicated science, but if there are any pokemon being brought into the living world from fossilized pieces of rock, Pikki can't see where. One of the scientists describes the equipment and process to her, with Roark chiming in on how his cranidos was reborn. 

Then the scientist goes into a spiel about a new experimental revival process that excites Roark but means nothing to Pikki. She observes the gym leader all animated, shooting theories a mile a minute, and it dawns on her: he wasn't eager to take _her_ to the museum, he was happy for an excuse to come here. Listening to his endless knowledge on fossil facts, dinosaur pokemon classifications, and niche scientific processes, she has passed impressed and overwhelmed, instead reaching a profound revelation — Roark is nice, hard-working, and physically attractive, but he is a gods-damned _nerd._

She thinks about going back to the coal exhibit, which she honestly found more stimulating. The way Roark and the scientist are going at it, there's no way she can tell him so. She might as well slip out and wait for him to notice she's gone… if he even would. She remembers the girls from the pokemon center who complained of his obliviousness, the one who insisted pursuing him was a waste of time — and she sees her point. A whole day she could have been traveling to the next gym, squandered. Each passing day is one closer to the August tournament.

Inching towards the exit, she pulls out her phone and texts her mom about her first gym badge. Ayame sends an enthusiastic "congrats!! ♥" in return. Just as she texts back "wait til you hear what I'm doing rn," Roark comes over to her. He noticed.

"You're bored, aren't you?" He looks chagrined. The scientist has disappeared, leaving them alone.

"Um…" Despite her disappointment, she still wants to be polite. "It's interesting, really…" 

His shoulders slump. "I knew it, I got too carried away. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I asked to come here, after all." Now she feels a little bad for not getting as much pleasure out of it as expected. 

"Can I take you somewhere else to make up for it? Somewhere you'd enjoy more than a dull old museum?"

Pikki blinks. She didn't expect this from the supposedly-oblivious Roark. "I do like museums! I'm actually looking forward to reaching the Shin'ai one in Hallows Town. I haven't been there since I was little, so I barely remember it."

"I'd like to see that. Where's Hallows Town, exactly?"

She knows what his response will be even before she answers. "Along Route 214… all the way in eastern Sinnoh…" 

"Oh man. There's no way I can go on a trip like that without making all kinds of arrangements for the gym and the mine." He sounds truly let down.

"Well, I won't be in that area for a few weeks anyway…" she says suggestively.

Roark grins, stepping out from the automated laboratory door. "We should still do something else now. Not much to see in Oreburgh, I'm afraid… I warned you." He picks up his jacket from a coat rack by the museum's main entrance. "I do still owe you for that first bento, and all the mochi you brought me. You want to get dinner? My treat."

Pikki blinks again. He is clearly not as unaware as the rumors say. 

"I know, not exactly as thrilling as the fossil lab," he jokes.

"No, I'd love to! Show me some local Oreburgh flavor."

The town doesn't have its own signature dishes, but does accommodate a great deal of food trucks that feature all kinds of Sinnohan fare. The two of them end up walking around and sampling so many tidbits of street food that it turns into a full meal — an experience best enjoyed during warm summer months. 

"If you like this, wait 'til you get to Canalave," Roark tells her as they stroll along with ice cream cones to top it off. "There's three times as many food trucks and stalls, and on an international scale. Dad and I got to try new things constantly. It's one thing I miss about living there."

"Was it always just you and your dad?" Pikki asks. "If you don't mind my asking."

"Pretty much. He and my mom split up when I was really young. I barely remember her, honestly."

"That's terrible."

"Eh, not really. She wasn't ready to settle down and be a parent, he said. I do remember spending a lot of time with my grandparents. Also a couple of months with my great-aunt here in Oreburgh. She was the gym leader back then, that was the first time I got to watch some battles in person. She took me to the museum a lot, and that's probably how I got into fossil pokemon. So you can blame her." He chuckles. "Then when my dad brought me back home, he had to explain why my mom was gone. And that was the end of that." 

"Wow." Pikki catches a drip of ice cream, which started to melt while she listened to Roark's tale. "I'm kind of in the same boat, except I never knew my dad at all. My mom didn't ever talk about him, and always gave me vague answers when I'd ask. So I stopped asking. Somehow I'd like to find out who he is, though."

"Man," Roark says. "I'm not sure if that's better or worse, not knowing a parent at all."

"I know they never married… I don't think they were together for very long. You know?"

"Awkward…" 

"Right?" Finishing off her cone, she shivers from being full of ice cream as evening sets in. It's noticeably chillier than before.

"Where's your hoodie?" Roark asks. "Walking around like that… you're in shorts, too." 

She rubs her bare arms. "I didn't think I'd need it." That's only part of the reason she showed up in her tightest t-shirt with the shortest sleeves and lowest neckline. "My legs are fine, though." Her over-the-knee socks have kept her shins warm, at least.

"Here." He shrugs off his jacket and hands it to her. Naturally, it's too large for her small frame, the sleeves extend past her hands, but it's still warm from his body heat. She couldn't be more thrilled unless he'd draped it over her himself. Just when she'd finally talked herself out of infatuation, too.

They walk back to the pokemon center by the light of sunset and a distant chorus of kricketot. "Well," Roark says as they pause before the sliding glass doors. "I guess this is it for real."

"I guess." Now that their time together is over, she's once more reluctant to move on. "It's late, I won't leave until the morning."

"I doubt you'll see me. I gotta get to the mine early since I left a little earlier than usual today."

She smiles at that. "Those fossils wait for no one, huh?"

Roark scratches the back of his neck. "So… uh…" He clears his throat. "Do you maybe want to let me know when you're close to Hallows Town? And I'll see about getting time off to come visit the Shin'ai Museum with you?"

"You mean, like, call you?" Pikki asks incredulously. 

"Yeah. Or text me, whatever."

She whips out her phone and hands it over so he can add his number. "Your phone's a lot newer than mine," he says. "Oh, I see. There." He gives it back. "And if you want, tell me how your other gym matches go. I'd like to hear how Maren does against Gardenia's grass-types."

"Okay!" she replies enthusiastically. "Call and text me too, anytime! Tell me if you find any new fossils."

He laughs. "You sure about that?" 

"Of course. I'd like to hear from you again."

His flip phone is quite a bit older than hers, so it takes her much longer to input the digits. "I've had that since I moved here. My work phone is up to date, though, and I use it more. Of course, it was provided to me," he rambles.

"Here." She gives it back to him after a couple of minutes. "I put in the number for Atuy Kotan too. Order mochi from my mom." 

"Oh man, I almost forgot. I totally will." He looks at the new entries. "Aww, it says Pik-ki."

"Hehe, yeah." She looks down shyly. "You can call me Pikki if you want to. Nearly everybody does, it's my childhood nickname. I don't mind, really."

"It works. Still the cutest name I've ever heard." He smiles at her, not moving. She wonders if maybe, just maybe, he's reluctant to part ways as well. "Okay, so…" he says after a bit.

"Don't forget your coat." She wriggles out of it. "Thanks for loaning it to me."

"No problem. You'd better get inside before you get cold again." He holds out his right hand, like before at the gym. "Have a safe journey, Pikki."

Rather than shake it, Pikki takes hold of it with her left. Their arms lower together as she interlocks their fingers and squeezes. "Thank you, Roark. I had a nice time." 

He grins, squeezing back. "Good. I did too." 

She waves after him as he drives off, all the way until his truck turns around a corner and is gone. The door barely closes behind her before a familiar front desk attendant all but pounces. "Did I just see that right?" she demands. "Were you on a _date_ with the _gym leader?_ "

Blushing, Pikki can't help but gloat. "Yeah, I suppose I was." 

The attendant squeals, joined by her colleague from behind the desk and a nurse passing through the lobby. They swarm around Pikki to ask a million burning questions.


	10. Pastoria Arc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're ready for some Aden character development after that detour in coal town, because we'll see more of him in this arc. When he last appeared, he was getting in trouble in Jubilife, and we learned a little bit of his history. And, just as a reminder, he has some unknown score to settle with one Haruba Jones…

As he pauses along Route 206, Aden takes out his badge case. Two badges already — at this rate, he'll have them all well before the tournament. The grass gym leader was just as easily defeated as the coal miner guy. Naturally Aden had the advantage with his flying-type gyarados, but since the Sinnoh League Association was watching him closely, he caught himself a new pokemon just for the Eterna Gym.

At the time, trainers in the area marveled that a torkoal appeared in this part of Sinnoh. Aden hadn't paid much attention at the time; he just wanted a fire pokemon on his team, and he knew they were hard to come by. Now that his match is over, he thinks back on some of the comments about torkoal. A sudden pokemon migration is the kind of thing a responsible ranger would look into. Too bad he's not a ranger any longer.

Aden's attention keeps getting drawn towards the bike riders taking Cycling Road. A bicycle would be useful, but he's going to need some more money first. For that, he'll need to win his third badge, and then maybe he'll get someone to sponsor him. With a sponsor he'll be able to better support his journey throughout Sinnoh. And then, he ponders, staring at his badge case, he can rub his eight badges in Joel's smug face and demand back his arcanine.

_I miss you, buddy,_ he thinks wistfully. His old partner would have been perfect in the grass gym. The torkoal, slow to move and slow to understand orders, is a poor fire-type substitute. Still, she tried her best, and won the match with far less damage to the plant-filled gym than Gyarados had done in Oreburgh. He considers it a decent victory.

And now he must prepare himself for the next gym. He knows it's all the way in Veilstone and is a fighting-type establishment, so, once again, Gyarados has the advantage. But like this most recent battle, he'd best have one a little less powerful.

After some exploring along the route, he catches a gligar. Pocketing the ball, he notices he's directly in front of an entrance to a large cave in the mountainside. Shrugging, he decides to explore inside for a bit. He's had his fill of being out in the open anyway.

It's cool, damp, and frankly peaceful. By flashlight, Aden lets himself wander through the twisty passageways. There's not really much to see, just a random zubat now and then, but with each turn, he hopes there will be something interesting to discover. Each time, he's disappointed. 

He starts to wonder if this cave is a metaphor for his journey thus far. It's been pretty straightforward and unchallenging, like he could fight these gym leaders in the dark. The Sinnoh League challenge is so methodological — clear-cut rules for an pointless athletic competition. He misses the unpredictability and heroism of rangerhood, citizens praising him for rescuing pokemon or putting out wildfires. 

And he would say he misses his friends, but after the Fall City incident, his fellow rangers steered clear of him. So much for getting a date after Aria's accusations. He thought they were falling for one another, that they were each other's firsts. That romantic night at her flat was nothing more than a trap. 

As much as he plays the memories over and over, he still can't figure out _why._ Why did Joel dislike him so much? Why did Aria go along with his plan to stigmatize Aden? Except that she was clearly in love with Joel the whole time, and cared more about his approval than what became of her co-ranger. A co-ranger she willingly slept with, and was pretty convincing about enjoying it. How could she have been so cruel?

It hurt so much that he wrecked the town with Gyarados's help. And now he's stuck going through the motions in Sinnoh, for the chance that he'll get his partner pokemon back from Joel's clutches. Only he's not sure if he's up for six more boring gyms in between traipsing through this backwards region. Everywhere he goes, people look at him cautiously. How can he explain to these Sinnohans that he's one of the good guys? Or used to be, at any rate. If the world wants to see him as a menace, then maybe he should be.

With a deep sigh, he stops and leans against a rocky wall. When he opens his eyes again, he sees light reflected off the opposite wall, coming from around the bend. He clicks off his flashlight, wondering who's approaching. Likely just another exploring trainer. Or maybe some criminal hatching a scheme in this secretive cave. Perhaps Aden can apprehend him and emerge a hero once more. Or maybe he can join him and screw everyone altogether.

It's just a trainer after all. A little girl, at that. She shines her own flashright right at Aden's face and gasps loudly. "I found someone! Can you help Mira?"

"Not if I'm blind." He blocks the light with his hand.

"Sorry!" She fumbles with it, shutting it off. In the dark, Aden hears it clatter against the ground. 

"Who's Mira? Is someone else back there?" he asks.

"Um, I'm Mira." She's scuffling around, looking for her torch, so Aden clicks his and holds it aloft. The skinny girl with mismatched pigtails clutches her flashlight safely to her chest. "I was looking for pokemon in here and got lost. Can you help me find the exit?" she pleads.

Aden scowls. He wants to say it's her parents' fault for letting her wander into a cave alone, or her own for not paying better attention, or not having a pokemon to guide her. But the longer she stares at him, the more he realizes he'd best help her. It's what any good person would do, ranger or not. "Alright," he sighs. "Follow me and I'll backtrack."

"Yay!" Mira scurries to his side. "What's your name? Are you a trainer? What kind of pokemon do you have, can I see?"

"Aden," he answers curtly. "You can see my team once we're out in the open, okay?"

"Okay! I can't wait to have my own team and go on a journey. I'm gonna have so many strong pokemon and be super tough." She starts listing her favorites, along with what kinds of moves they can learn, and what advantages and disadvantages those moves have, how many battle items she's found in the cave and saved for the future. Aden tunes her out as he tries to remember which turns he took. This cave is more difficult to navigate than he expected, and a prattling kid at his side is not helping.

To make matters worse, he keeps hearing what sounds like a pokemon stampede in the distance. Every time Mira pauses for a breath, Aden listens carefully to try and figure out if there's a herd of pokemon headed their way, or what. He can't tell with all the twisty passageways. Maybe it's just an onix or two tunneling through the walls. Regardless, he needs to find that exit fast if there's a chance they might be rushed by wild pokemon.

And then it happens. They round a corner just as a collective of noisy, panicked geodude fly by. "Get back!" Aden shouts to Mira, giving her as light a shove as he can. Startled by his voice, one of the geodude rushes him. There's no time to lob one of his pokemon at it, for the frightened geodude throws a punch straight for Aden's face. He shields his head, socked instead in the arm by a fist of pure rock. 

Mira shrieks, pulling Aden backwards to safety. "Let me go!" he snarls, snatching his gyarados's pokeball from his belt. "I'm gonna drown all of 'em!" 

"Don't!" Mira cries. "They're scared, something's wrong!" 

Aden holds the ball aloft, seconds away from flinging it. His other arm throbs. He breathes in short bursts. She's right, of course, but he growls in frustration as the geodude go on their way. He wanted to get even. However, a ranger wouldn't do that to pokemon fleeing from a threat.

"Are you alright?" she meekly asks. "Is it broken?

He clips the ball back in place and moves his arm slowly. "Don't think so. I'll be fine."

"We should find out what happened."

"I thought you wanted to get out of here."

"I want to know what bothered the geodude! Maybe we can help."

"Probably just an onix getting into their nest. C'mon, now _I_ want to get out of here." He snatches her hand just in time to hear the strange noise from before. Only rather than a stampede, it sounds more like a rockslide. He just can't place where it's coming from. Aden starts to say that he doesn't think they _want_ to find out what scared the geodude, but he has a nagging suspicion he should investigate. If it's an onix invading their territory, he has the ranger tools to calm it down and lead it away. And if it's humans… well, he has a powerful gyarados to deal with them before alerting the authorities.

But first, he sends out his new gligar. "Can you use your sonar and guide us to whatever's making that sound?" he asks when another rockslide happens. Obediently, Gligar does so, then springs off Aden's arm to fly. Aden takes after him, casting one glance behind. "Mira, c'mon!" 

"So cool," he hears her say. "Mira is coming!"

They follow through more dark twists and turns. Then Aden sees light bouncing off the cave walls from behind a corner. Silently, he guides Mira and Gligar to hide in the shadow of a boulder while he takes a peek. 

There's someone digging into the walls with a pickaxe by the glow of a pokemon Aden does not know. Some kind of floating rock with clear crystals growing out of its body. The other pokemon at his side, he does recognize: a nosepass. The cave floor is littered with stones that glitter from the foreign pokemon's flash; it's obvious this man had his nosepass rock blast the wall so he could dig for treasures. Aden was under the impression this kind of activity was encouraged in the Underground, which a lot of people in Eterna made a big deal of — because one of the Underground's founders lives there, or something.

While he's relieved it's just a lone treasure hunter, and about to call this investigation over, Aden pauses to think. He's pretty sure spelunking is reserved for the Underground because wild pokemon don't live in those specific passageways. Whatever this guy is looking for, he's disturbed a nest of geodude for it. And while it's not that big a deal, Aden is still mad about the swarm and the pain in his arm. He rubs at the sore spot. He's going to confront him.

The man steps back from the wall, admiring the blue stone he picked out of it. He sweeps off his hat to wipe his forehead with his arm, grinning at his nosepass. That's when Aden recognizes him. It's none other than Haruba Jones.

Only one thing could make him entirely forget about Aria, Joel, and the injustices he suffered in Fall City — and that thing is right before his eyes, unaware that he's no longer alone. Aden clenches his fist with the uninjured arm, and replays a different memory… 

_"Oh, Aden… what are you going to do with yourself now?"_

_"Exactly what Joel told me to do. I'm going to Sinnoh." He balled up another extra t-shirt into his bag._

_"I hate to see you leave so soon after—" She stopped herself, a hand over her heart. "Stay home, at least for a few more days."_

_"I can't. I can't be in Almia now, surrounded by all these rangers."_

_"What Joel did to you is unforgivable. Let me investigate him, there's bound to be a few skeletons in his closet."_

_"I don't need my mother to fight my battles," Aden grumbled. "I'm seventeen."_

_"And I don't want my son to start a life of globe-trotting, never to be seen again," said Maya, quietly._

_Aden chuckled. "It's just Sinnoh. Same island, even. I've no intention of running halfway across the world and leaving you alone. Who do you think I am?"_

_Maya glanced away, and Aden knew exactly of whom she was thinking._

_"I'll keep my promise," he said after a moment's silence. "The only reason I'll take off is if I learn where he is. I'm going to find him for you."_

_"He disappeared three years ago, after that Holon incident. No one knows where he is."_

_"I'll find him," Aden reiterated slowly. "He won't get away that easily. I won't rest until he pays for everything he's put us through."_

Aden was astounded that Haruba Jones showed up on the news with the Azure Flute just one day later — but that stroke of fortune seems like nothing compared to having the man directly in his sight, in a dark cave with no witnesses save a little girl. Surely his clever gligar will lead the kid away once he catches on.

It's now or never. Aden charges with a yell. Haruba Jones looks at him, startled. The next thing he knows, a sandstorm kicks up. "No!" Aden cries, plunging into the heavy, raging dust. The dim flash of Jones's strange rock pokemon has vanished. Aden spits out sand, holding his eyes shut, swinging blindly. His fist crunches against the cave wall instead. He swears, falling to his knees in defeat. Jones is gone. 

And then he feels cool grass between his fingers. He rubs his eyes and spits out more sand. He's outside the cave, but how? Who saved them? He half-expects to see that bastard Jones, but there's no one but Mira… with an alakazam at her side.

"Are you okay?" she asks, taking his arm. "You cut your hand! Hold on, Mira's mom packed lots of bandages!" She shrugs off her backpack to start digging through it.

"What just happened?!" Aden demands. 

"Um… I had to get us out of the sandstorm, so…" 

He stares up at the alakazam looming protectively beside her. "Do you mean to tell me… you had a pokemon like that who could have teleported you out of the cave _at any time?_ "

She peels open an adhesive bandage with a cheerful smile. "Mira wanted to find her own way out like a strong trainer! By teaming up with another strong trainer like you!"

Aden sucks in his breath, holding back the strong urge to bite her head off. As she carefully applies bandages to his knuckles, his gligar swoops in. At first he's upset that Mira apparently left him behind, but realizes, as a ground-type, Gligar would be unaffected by a sandstorm. Indeed, the little pokemon seems fine. He proudly holds something in his pincer, even.

"Whatcha got, buddy?" Aden asks, anger deflating. It's a chunk of bright blue rock. Aden turns it over in his hand, unsure of what it's supposed to be. The gligar tilts his head, tongue sticking out. "You like items, right, Mira? Do you know what this is?"

Satisfied with her doctoring efforts, Mira takes the stone and examines it closely. "Nope, I think it's just a pretty rock. Is it what that man was digging for?"

Frowning, Aden takes it back. If he has a clue as to what Haruba Jones was doing, then he's going to guard it closely.

"Who was he?" Mira asks softly. "You looked so… like you were gonna punch him."

Aden closes his fingers around the stone. "I was. He's… he's a bad guy I've been looking for."

"Then your gligar is a hero for going into the sandstorm and snatching it from him." She pets the top of the pokemon's head. "Ooh, I know!" Reaching into her backpack again, she holds out her hands to Aden. "Mira will give you this, as thanks for your help!"

It's some kind of large fang. Aden isn't sure if it does anything, but he'll be nice about it. "Thanks, Mira. I feel like I didn't help much, but thanks." He reaches out and rubs the top of his gligar's head. Compared to his temperamental gyarados and witless torkoal, Gligar is most likely to become partner material. "Thank you too, little bud."

Aden and Gligar escort Mira back to her home near Eterna City. Her mother thanks him profusely and offers him a room for the night. He almost declines, thinking that he might chase after Haruba Jones — but after the lady's gratitude, plus hearing Mira boast about how kind he was to help her and how brave he acted, chasing after a bad guy in the middle of a sandstorm, he changes his mind. It's a nice feeling that they're not afraid of him.

"You're so strong, Aden," Mira says after her mother shows him to the guest bedroom. She lays on her stomach on the bed, kicking her feet back and forth. "Think I could ever be as good as you?"

"Heh, maybe." Aden digs through his backpack, making sure the blue stone is safely inside. It is, next to Mira's giant fang. "Just… practice every day with your pokemon, and stay out of trouble. Mind your own business, and don't go after bad guys."

"Likewise."

He smirks at her. "You've got a big headstart on other kids your age. Where in the world did you get an alakazam, of all things?"

"He's Mira's family pokemon! Mom sends him with me whenever I go exploring!"

"Well, alakazam are—" He pauses. "Say, Mira… you wanna trade for my really cool torkoal?"

"No way!" She leaps off the bed. "I'm gonna start training with him, and have a battle with you someday! 'Night, Aden!" Just like that, she takes off. 

_What is it with little girls who want to battle me?_ Aden muses, recalling the marill girl from Jubilife. He shuts the door for the night. His hand on the knob is the bandaged one, and that makes him think about everything — especially Haruba Jones narrowly escaping. No matter what Aden decides to do about his gym quest, he will not let that man get away again.


	11. Chapter 11

Hey, how's it going?  
[12:17 pm]

Ok. Got a bento for lunch bc I wanted mochi today  
[12:19 pm]

Hehe good!! How are things at the gym?  
[12:19 pm]

Not so great, I haven't had a win since our first battle. The SLA is really  
getting on my case about it too  
[12:21 pm]

Oh no, I'm sorry. You can do it, you're the Rock :3  
[12:22 pm]

Heh. I think I'll see about training with my dad all weekend, since I  
skipped out on the times he asked me recently  
[12:25 pm]

But enough about that, how are you?  
[12:25 pm]

Good idea :)d I'm in Eterna finally! I had to camp out in the woods.  
Rowan ate 3 whole combee hives  
[12:26 pm]

lol geez  
[12:27 pm]

Let me know how your gym challenge goes, ok?  
[12:28 pm]

I will! Let me know how it goes with your dad. Maybe I need to  
come back and help you train, yeah?  
[12:30 pm]

Maybe haha  
[12:30 pm]

;3  
[12:30 pm]

Roark spends the rest of his lunch break attempting to call Byron. He does not answer, which is not all that unusual, since he tends to leave his cell phone behind on the kitchen counter, or it falls out of his pocket into the couch cushions at night. Roark leaves him a voice message, hoping he gets it this time, as Byron has not returned his calls lately.

By Saturday morning, he still hasn't called back. Roark tries again, and when he hears the voicemail prompt, he says that he's on his way over. He snaps his phone shut with a sigh. Byron has probably lost his cell, or his bastiodon stepped on it. Roark is starting to think it would be easier if Byron had a computer, and they could send messages that way.

The drive to Canalave from Oreburgh takes a couple of hours. Sometimes it annoys him, especially dealing with Jubilife traffic, and other times he doesn't mind at all because being alone in his truck gives him time to think. Though he tends to think about fossils, this time he's wondering about his father. Byron not returning his calls for a mere twenty-four hours could be easily explained, but he hasn't pestered him about his gym losses or training schedule at all for a few weeks now. Which likely means he's mad about Roark not coming over as much anymore, so he's throwing himself into his own personal training to ignore him. Groaning, Roark realizes that by driving out to Canalave of his own volition, he's just set himself up to get a hard lecture, followed by an ass-beating of training, only to turn around on Sunday to go right back to work. After how particularly rough this week has been, he'd rather catch up on his sleep and visit the Underground — but it's his duty as a gym leader to better himself whenever he has time.

Even though he has a key, he knocks on Byron's door. It's the same apartment where Roark spent the first fifteen years of his life. He would have expected his dad to move somewhere else by now, but Byron claimed he wanted to keep Roark's bedroom intact for visits. Indeed, the bedroom has not been altered in three years, which Roark kind of appreciates — though he knows the real reason his father hasn't moved or so much as rearranged his living space is because he hates change.

There's no answer. "Great," he mumbles, knowing he'll have to check the gym, the ferry schedules for Iron Island… why can't Byron keep better track of his phone? He presses his ear to the door and, to his surprise, hears faint music, like a radio in another room. Decidedly, he unlocks the door, calling out, "Dad? Are you here?"

Byron emerges from his bedroom, where loud classic rock is blaring. In his arms he's holding a what looks like bunched-up bedsheets. "Hey, son," he says nonchalantly. "Didn't hear ya."

"Uh…" Roark stares blankly at him. "I've been calling you since yesterday. Did you lose your phone again?"

"Oh, really? Musta forgot to turn it on. My bad." He looks around the living room. "There it is." He nods towards the couch, where his own flip phone is sitting in plain sight on the coffee table.

But Roark notices something else: the table's surface is clear of any dirty plates, empty bottles, stacks of old mail. The floor is less dirt-covered than he recalls. There are stuffed garbage bags right behind him, by the door. "Wh… are you _cleaning?_ " he asks incredulously.

"What's it look like I'm doin'?"

Roark peers over Byron's shoulder at his bedroom and the source of the music. "Even your room? You're washing your sheets?" He has to laugh at the impossibleness of it all. "What's going on, you got a date or something?"

Unexpectedly, Byron's face takes on a stantler-in-headlights look. "You _do_ , don't you? Oh wow…" Roark's amusement plummets when it hits him that his dad is tidying up his _bedroom_ and has stripped the _sheets_ because they need to be _washed_. "Oh gods no," he mutters, dropping his duffel bag.

Byron catches on to his son's train of thought. "It's not like that yet!" he shouts, clutching the sheets defensively.

" _Yet?!_ " Roark repeats.

"Forget I said that!"

"Is this serious? Please say it's serious if… that… is a thing that's going to happen."

"Stop askin' me about it!"

"You won't tell me otherwise!"

"Some things ya don't need t'know!"

Roark holds his breath before he yells any louder and gets the neighbors on their backs again. "Okay," he says in a normal tone. "You're right, I don't need — or _want_ — to know what goes on in… there." He points to the bedroom. "What I meant was, if you've been seeing someone and it's getting serious… when were you going to tell me about it?"

"Mmn," Byron hums, looking guiltily away. "Eventually."

Roark sighs. "It must be going well, if _you're_ cleaning the whole place."

"Issa surprise, kinda," admits Byron, looking embarrassed. "Fer next time."

He chuckles. "I see. That's thoughtful of you." He glances over at the kitchen. Dirty dishes have been moved from the coffee table to the sink, waiting to be washed. And the stove has a brown crust from something recently spilled. Which is odd, because Roark didn't think Byron used the stove for anything but extra counter space. "So… you need some help? I came over for that training you're always asking me about, but maybe this should come first?"

"Hmph…" Byron looks around. "Might as well, get done faster. Then trainin'. I know all about yer new losin' streak."

"I'm surprised you haven't berated me for it sooner. Been busy with more than cleaning lately?" He grins.

His father just glares. "Go take that trash out while I put this in th' washer already."

As he carries the bags downstairs, Roark speculates on what kind of person would deeply appreciate the surprise of a clean apartment. When he comes back, finding Byron looking listlessly around the main room for what next to tackle, he says, "Okay, Dad, one more invasive question before I drop the subject entirely."

He raises a thick eyebrow, but silently gives him permission.

"Is your, uh… date… the right, y'know…" He struggles, for this is more difficult to actually say than he imagined. "The right gender?"

Both eyebrows raise up high, disappearing into his shaggy hair. "Yeah. Yeah, he is."

Roark nods, relieved. "That's good. Can I meet him sometime? Not necessarily this weekend, but soon?"

"Soon," Byron agrees.

True to his word, Roark says no more about it. He starts cleaning the bathroom while Byron tackles the kitchen. He's honestly not sure which of the two rooms is more disgusting, but he thinks the bathroom might win. It's reminding him that he never really cleans his own little house. He hasn't lived in it for as long as Byron has his, and isn't quite on the same level of foul bachelor. Besides, Roark tells himself, if he ever gets the chance to date anyone, _then_ he'll clean up his place.

He steps away from the now-spotless toilet, reaching for the soap and hot water knob. Something catches his eye before he turns on the water: several stray hairs in the sink. Roark doesn't recall his dad shedding so much. He holds one between a finger and thumb; upon closer inspection, these hairs are flat black, and a little longer than Byron's. He now knows one thing — a tiny, insignificant thing — about the date.

Two things, he realizes: the date has been here before, recently, and combed his hair over the sink. Why would he need to do that? Just grooming himself? Would Byron get serious with someone so vain? Unless he showered for some reason. Roark washes his hands at last, glancing at the shower, which is the next thing to confront. He pushes the curtain aside, letting out a disgusted groan at the sight of red mold in between the tiles.

They declare their jobs done by dinnertime, order in some food, and sit on the couch before the TV. Roark thinks it's nice to relax with his father for once, until Byron takes him to his gym to get in some training for the rest of the evening. When it comes to pokemon battles, dating hasn't slowed him down in the slightest.

Afterwards, Roark collapses in his old bed, gazing at the paleontology posters, Jubilife Staraptors logos, and rampardos cutouts on his wall. At least this room doesn't need to be scrubbed clean, since Byron keeps clear to preserve it. He wonders what the date thinks of this monument to a now-grown son… and what Byron has said about him.

His phone beeps in his jeans pocket from across the room. Something else Roark isn't used to. He rolls out of bed to check the notification: a text from Pikki. Flipping up his phone reveals he's missed a few from her since dinner.

I met Gardenia at the pokecenter just now. She's so cool :o   
[5:08 pm]

omg this historical museum! It has a fossil exhibit too~  
[5:49 pm]

[Image Attachment.jpg]  
[5:52 pm]

[Image Attachment.jpg]  
[5:54 pm]

How's your training? Rock solid?  
[6:10 pm]

Everything going ok? Am I texting too much, hehe  
[10:41 pm]

You're not, I've just had a wild day  
[10:42 pm]

My phone can't view pics, what were they?  
[10:42 pm]

omg lame ;3 I took photos of the fossils to show you!   
[10:42 pm]

:P I've been there and seen them already. But thanks  
[10:43 pm]

btw if you hear anyone talk about Underground Man Diggory,  
that's my grandpa. He and grandma live in Eterna, near the center  
[10:45 pm]

Oooh neat. So how did today go?  
[10:45 pm]

Training was kind of rough, especially bc we did it after dinner, after working on  
smth else all day. Got surprising news from my dad as soon as I walked in the door  
[10:47 pm]

Oh?  
[10:47 pm]

Yeah. Can I tell you about it tomorrow? I'm beat  
[10:48 pm]

Sure. Get lots of rest, goodnight! :3  
[10:48 pm]

Night Pikki :)  
[10:49 pm]

Sunday has them training hard all day again at the Canalave Gym, until Roark says he has to head home and get to sleep for work Monday morning. In the bizarrely-clean apartment, Roark parts by saying he's happy that Byron is happy, and that he hopes the surprise goes over well. Byron blushes visibly and thumps his son's back, telling him to keep up with his training.

In his truck, alone, Roark has plenty to think about during the two-hour drive. He feels truly glad Byron is getting out there at last, and surprised it took him this long. He expected his father would have started looking for companionship right after Roark moved out… perhaps it isn't so easy for men to meet other men for that purpose. It's weird to contemplate, but Roark is just happy that Byron's being authentic this time. Was he waiting all those years for Roark to be old enough to accept it? Or did he just occupy himself with training and fossil hunting to avoid the dating scene? Roark is pretty sure he knows the answer.

He also wonders, bitterly, if it will take him until middle age to find himself a serious girlfriend. _Dad got into a relationship before I ever asked out a girl,_ he keeps thinking. Immediately, he feels guilty because Byron is long due for a significant other — but Roark is aware that he, too, buries himself in the mine, fossil hunting, and not enough pokemon training. If he keeps going like this, he will one day be forty years old, still single, living alone in a crusty little house. Only he won't have a son who comes over once and awhile to keep him company.

_Oh gods… but how?_ he wonders. _How do I do it?_ He reached out to Roxanne and got nothing. The giggly neighborhood girls who do things like bring him cookies aren't really his type, unless his standards are too high. Does he even have standards? He just wants a nice, cute girl, bonus points if she's into fossils or any aspect of geology. Or, if not (because that's a long shot), she should be invested in training pokemon, and appreciate the strength of rock-types. He wants one who shares at least some of his interests and can be his best friend to whom he comes home every night.

After dinner on the road and a shower as soon as he gets home, he's so drained that he flops into his bed. It's twice the size of his old one in Canalave, and exceptionally comfy… but sometimes it feels empty. Maybe he should wash the sheets soon, like Byron did, just in case — in case of what, exactly?

He glances at his phone on the nightstand beside him. He put it there this time, rather than leave it in his pocket, though he's not sure why when he's not in the habit of using it. Then he remembers that Pikki has been waiting since last night to hear about his visit with Byron, and he sure as hell wants to talk to _somebody_ about that weirdness. So he texts her the story, even though it takes forever on his older style phone.

She texts him back right away. Gratefully, he smiles at the tiny screen.

}{}{}{}{}{

Monday is back to the old grind. Roark is happy to not have a challenger this morning after so much intense training. Just regular mine work, same as ever. He parks by his trailer "office," where many of the men are gathered for some reason. An impromptu meeting?

"'Morning," he greets them, noticing that they all look worried. "What's up?"

"Boss!" Colin leaps at him frantically. "Didn't you hear what happened over the weekend?"

Roark's stomach turns. "No… I was at my dad's all weekend. What is it? Spit it out."

"Herrera closed the Fuego Ironworks!"

The hard hat he'd been holding by the strap slips from his fingers, clattering on the rocky ground. "Are you _kidding?_ " he asks, agape.

"Why would I kid about that?" Colin cries, and the other miners all speak at once. Roark makes out something about pollution and the Environmental Protection Bureau, something about Herrera Company outsourcing its iron refining to Kanto, another point about iron ore becoming scarce within the mountains, since Iron Island was tapped out years ago — that explains why a wild aron was sniffing around the mine a couple of weeks ago. Most of all, concern that this sudden shutdown means trouble for the Oreburgh Mine. If there's no more ironworks to supply with coal, how many more jobs will the company eliminate?

"Calm down, everyone!" Roark raises his voice. "We won't know until an official statement comes out. Don't start worrying, there's plenty of demand for coal all over the place. And Oreburgh isn't going to run out of coal ore for a long, long time. Okay?" His speech seems to help ease their pressing fears. He picks up his hard hat, tipping out the gravel from inside. "Now let's get to it."

As the men reluctantly head for the mine entrance, Colin stays back, asking in a low tone, "You'll tell me what the big boss says, right? He'll feed us some bullshit about closin' down shop for the environment, but you'll find out what's really goin' on, won't you? If he's cuttin' jobs or whatever? He'll be straight with you, he likes you."

"Of course, Colin. I'll let everyone know the truth." Roark straps on his helmet. "I won't allow the company put all you guys out of work. Not after you've dedicated your lives to the mine." He wonders what the former Fuego employees will do now. Will they be offered relocation to the Kanto ironworks? Would any of them up and move their families down there so suddenly?

The morning is a little more chaotic than usual. Therefore, it's the worst timing when Riley, of all people, shows up at the mine, intently approaching Roark in the middle of the field as he oversees the loading of a rock truck. "I need to talk to you," Riley says by way of greeting, seizing Roark's arm.

Roark just looks at him incredulously. "Kind of busy, in case you couldn't tell."

"It's about Fuego." He looks deathly serious, and Roark knows why. He sighs and agrees to it after the loading is complete.

Riley had come to see him not long ago, right after Roark learned from Pikki he had returned to Sinnoh. They spent a long time catching up, and Riley revealed he had indeed already visited Byron and took a tour of modern-day Canalave, the city he once and still loves. Roark would have liked the three of them to spend time together, like the old days, but Riley promised another time, as he had things to tend to.

Present-day Riley is much different compared to the gentle young man whom Roark remembers from a decade ago. Taller, stronger, much more confident in his stride, markedly more refined in his speech and mannerisms — and today, very angry. Roark leads him to his trailer so they can talk in private. Riley lets the door slam behind him.

"Did you know beforehand?" he asks directly. "Did he give you any indication he was going to do this?"

"No, I swear I had no idea." Roark holds up his hands. "I heard the news from the miners this morning."

"Did you find out anything about Stark Mountain?"

They talked about that during Riley's prior visit, and it correlated with what Pikki asked him about Darius Herrera the day he came to the mine. Riley showed him a charred silver pen with the Herrera Mining Company's logo, and Roark told him the same thing he told her: he had no idea. He still doesn't, because, contrary to what Byron and Riley both seem to believe, he is not on close personal terms with his ultimate boss on a daily basis.

"No, I still don't know anything," he answers. "It's a stretch to assume he was even there in the first place. That mountain is super protected, the only ones allowed near it are Survival Area-approved trainers. So maybe a trainer had a pen they picked up from the company and dropped it."

Riley slams his fist on top of the desk. "He's up to no good! First a volcanic eruption, now closing one of the company's main factories! He's got something up his sleeve!"

Roark gives him a long, silent look. "Riley… if you want to find out so badly, why don't _you_ ask him yourself?"

The returning look is steely, from cold blue eyes. "You know I can't do that."

"Why not? It's been ten years. _Ten years._ You finally came back to Sinnoh, and you won't go see your own father?"

The air in the trailer is heavy. Roark starts to regret his words, but he won't back down from his friend's icy glare now. He knows he's in the right.

Riley finally answers, a low, dark murmur. "I'll see him once I've figured out his scheme, and a way to stop him."

Roark sighs. "C'mon…"

"No, you c'mon! You sound like you're defending that man after everything he put me through! Or have you forgotten?"

"I haven't forgotten, I just think you should sit down and talk to him. Let him know that how he treated you was unacceptable. Casually ask him if he waltzed into Stark Mountain and pushed its erupt button."

"This isn't a joke!"

"I'm not joking! You're really losing it over this."

Silence again. Riley closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. "You're right. I just… want to be somewhere else. I came back to Sinnoh for a reason, and things keep coming up that prevent me from being with that reason for very long."

Roark has no idea what he's talking about. "I'm sorry, Riley. There has to be a sensible explanation for everything. As soon as I find out whatever I can, I'll let you know. Okay?"

"Okay. Forgive my outbursts, that was most malapropos." He adjusts his jacket sleeves fussily.

"Uh… if you say so." Roark chuckles. "Where are you going to be? In Mineral Spring with your mother?"

"I just came from a stay with her. I'll be here and there," he says vaguely as they step out of the trailer. "I'll check in with you again soon."

"We still gotta get all three of us together. You, me, and Dad."

Riley smiles over his shoulder. "Of course."

As he walks away, Colin and a couple other miners come to fetch their foreman. "What was that about, boss? Who was that guy?"

"He wanted to know if I had any information about the Fuego situation," Roark answers truthfully.

"Yeah, but what's it to him? He gonna buy it?"

"Well… I guess he could someday, if he wanted." Roark watches Riley's blue form until he's gone within the mountainside. "As far as I know, he's still the legal heir to the company and all its assets. Darius's only son, Riley Herrera-Torres."


	12. Chapter 12

Pikki has lost against Maylene, the third gym leader in a row to have a specialty that's strong against her team. Rowan the teddiursa and Godoron the aron might be her better fighters, but Maren the marill is the only one who won't instantly fall to a fighting-type attack. _I need a more varied team,_ she thinks as she works on training all three of them for a rematch. _It just takes so long already with these three… adding new members means more training for them to catch up, not to mention more food…_

She sticks with her three for now, focusing on learning new attacks and defensive strategies. It pays off during the rematch, with an added surprise: Rowan evolves into ursaring. Right as Maylene's lucario is about to knock him out, his sudden transformation into a much larger, stronger pokemon gives him the slightest advantage.

Pikki and her team all bow at Maylene, a slip of a girl who is Sinnoh's second newest leader, and younger than Pikki. But while she admires her new Cobble Badge and chats with Maylene, Maren anxiously looks up at the new, intimidating Rowan. 

Pikki is thrilled to have the kind of pokemon on her team that she'd always envisioned: big, tough, and powerful. Now perhaps trainers will start to take her seriously, and see more than a cute girl with cute little monsters. 

Not only is she excited about that, her next stop is Hallows Town and the Shin'ai Museum, which she's been looking forward to visiting since she started her journey. She calculates she'll arrive by Saturday, which is perfect, because she's about to invite Roark, as promised. 

She calls him, rather than text this time, in the evening, when he should be home. While her heart is pounding, it skips a beat or two when he answers. "Hi. It's Pikki," she says.

"I know, I saw the caller ID," he says, amused. "What's up?"

"Um… well, I'll be in Hallows Town by the weekend… if you still want to come see the Shin'ai Museum."

He groans. "I don't think I can. There's so much happening at work right now, I doubt I could leave for even a day trip."

"Oh no." Pikki's shoulders fall, and she pouts at the phone. "What's going on?"

"The mining company shut down Fuego Ironworks a couple of weeks ago, and now our coal shipments are all up in the air. Some guys have quit already because they think jobs will be cut at the mine, so they're looking for new ones already… it's a mess." He sounds exhausted just describing it.

"I'm so sorry, Roark." 

"Me too. I need to stay, even on the weekend, in case something comes up. And there's the gym…" He sighs. "More and more challengers, and I haven't won a single match. I could use a vacation starting about now. So believe me, I'd love to leave town and see the Shin'ai Museum with you."

That makes her smile. "Well, maybe there will be another time. Museum's not going anywhere."

"Yeah. So did you just leave Veilstone? How was your battle?"

She excitedly tells him about her loss and then the victory Rowan pulled off by evolving mid-battle. When she mentions wanting to add more pokemon to her team, Roark advises her that the next gym is water-themed, run by a veteran who's been in the League almost as long as his dad. Armed with this knowledge, Pikki will be sure to catch a pokemon who's strong against water-types.

Which she does the next day. It's a shinx, a nimble little electric-type. Pikki names her Korin and falls in love with her right away. Introducing her to her teammates, Godoron instantly takes to her, Rowan doesn't seem to care, and Maren acts disdainful, moreso than she has since they left the Veilstone Gym. 

While they have a picnic lunch, Pikki holds Maren in her lap and gives her a mochi while the others occupy themselves. She wonders if the marill is feeling neglected, since she was Pikki and Ayame's sole pet and dedicated worker for so long.

"Don't be jealous," she tells her, watching Godoron and Korin frolick in the grass like littermates. "She's going to help us beat the next gym leader."

Maren glances sideways at Rowan, stretched out in the grass beside the blanket, snoozing. "Well, yeah, he'll be good against him," Pikki states. "I didn't think he'd evolve already, but he's been working hard. Especially against that fighting gym. I guess he had to prove himself there."

The marill makes a sad little sound, biting into her mochi.

Despite Roark's absence, the Shin'ai Museum is a treat. There is, of course, a huge central display of the many tools and ceremonial statues brought back by Haruba Jones on his famous expedition. Pikki cannot help telling the curator about her mother's restaurant, and that Jones donated some of the expedition's treasures to her personally.

"That is quite the honor," the curator says. "Is Mr. Jones a friend of your family?"

"Um. Not exactly?" For all that she grew up hearing about him, Pikki never considered this. "I've never met him, anyway. But now that he's back in Sinnoh, maybe I will! Which reminds me… where can I see the Azure Flute?"

The curator smiles. "I'm afraid you just missed it. It was purchased by a private party not too long ago."

Pikki blinks. "Purchased? It's a lost historical artifact, how could someone just come in and _buy_ it?"

"They were quite insistent, and made a most generous offer," the curator answers in a hushed tone, looking a little guilty. "The truth is, that sale ensures we'll stay open for years to come. Even Haruba Jones waltzing in with that flute didn't bring in as many donations as we'd hoped. It seems as the more time passes, the less people are interested in a culture that doesn't exactly exist anymore."

Pikki doesn't know what to say. This culture is hers, no matter how distantly she's descended from it — and it's her mother's legacy to keep it alive in some small way. "I wish I could help," she says. "I'm Shin'ai, and I don't want to see it forgotten in my lifetime."

"I'm sure you won't let it, then." The curator smiles at her.

At the end of her museum tour, she spends the last of her spare money on her own donation, contributing whatever she can for now. She leaves also with a couple of souvenirs: a recording of indigenous music and a simple wooden flute trimmed in azure, the Shin'ai's most beloved stone. She vows to learn some of the songs and play them just as her ancestors did.

Only now she's broke. Though if she has to stick around one town to earn money for a bit, she's glad it's this one. She asks at Maratto, the long-established Shin'ai restaurant where her mother used to work, if they need any part-time help. Once the manager learns she's Ayame Hidaka's daughter, he welcomes her on board for as long as she'll stay.

Maratto is much larger and more well-known than Atuy Kotan all the way up in the Resort Area. Still, there's a big flyer and menu brochures for its sister restaurant, which Pikki is grateful to see. She calls her mother to tell her all about it, and lets her catch up over the phone with her old boss.

And so begins her new temporary routine of working and training, just like when she spent some time in Oreburgh. Hallows Town is much more picturesque, however — surrounded by beautiful forests, clear lakes, and hot springs. But while the setting is more inviting, Pikki would trade it in an instant to be in Oreburgh City with Roark. Time and distance have not lessened her feelings, especially when they text back and forth all the time. With each day that passes in Hallows Town, she hopes he'll find a way to come visit. She wants to show him the Shin'ai District that means so much to her, and also take him to the hot springs. He _does_ sound like he could use a relaxing soak, after all. On the phone, he agrees, and regrets that he can't come when that sounds like the best thing in the world. She thinks about this every day, especially at night when she's trying to sleep.

In addition to waitressing (and letting Maren help the dishwashers, which cheers her up somewhat), Pikki battles whichever restaurant patrons have pokemon trained to fight. Some of them are technically her rivals, journeying and earning badges for the opportunity to enter the big tournament. She wins and loses in equal amounts, but overall feels a lot more confident in her team's ability to beat the upcoming gym leader.

The Maratto manager is so pleased with her battling (which always draws a crowd and therefore more business), her prompt waitressing on rollerskates, and just being his favorite old employee's daughter that he agrees to sponsor Pikki, now that she has the minimum three badges. As an official representative of Maratto, she will promote them on her journey, which will grow their business and allow them to support her financially, especially as the League compensates them both with every badge earned. She is overjoyed to tears. At last, she can start sending her earnings to help her mother's restaurant. She finally feels like a professional trainer, after so many struggles thus far.

It's been exactly a month since she got her license in Jubilife City. She reflects on how in that time she's added three new pokemon to her life, seen many wonderful and interesting cities, and met the man of her dreams. Though she hasn't forgotten that she owes it all to Mr. Riley Torres, the fleeting dreamboat who made it possible for her to get to Jubilife in the first place. Roark told her that Riley had come to visit him a couple of times since she was there, and she wonders if she'll ever find him so she can thank him. She also wonders if she'll ever see Aden Lawley, the older trainer with the red gyarados, again. Riley, Aden, Haruba Jones… there are so many people Pikki hopes to meet on her journey.

The last thing she sees of Hallows Town is the nearly-hidden entrance to the Spring Path. This ancient forested roadway leads to Sendoff Spring, a Shin'ai holy spot and another of Sinnoh's significant lakes. As much as she'd like to detour and see it in person, she knows she had better move along to the next city. As a tribute, she stands at the entrance and plays the song she's learned on her souvenir flute. She'll make it back someday.

Route 214 comes out at Valor Lakefront, home to Sinnoh's most popular luxury resort, the Hotel Grand Lake. Not only is there beautiful Lake Valor, but the hotel is situated on the beachfront, making it swarmed with tourists, especially in the summer. Though she doesn't plan to get a room, Pikki stops to take in all the sights, especially one of the region's three biggest lakes.

She lets all her pokemon out so they can enjoy the lakeside too. As they wander around the serene wooded area, she faces the water with a feeling of profound determination. She's made it this far already, and there's no telling what will happen next, but she's eager to find out. Her journey, the tournament, and even Roark — now that she'll be headed west for the next few gyms, every step is one step closer back to Oreburgh City. Maybe when she sees him again, she can make her feelings more clear.

Her daydreaming is interrupted as Korin rubs against her ankles. "Awww…" she drawls, scooping her up. "You're so sweet. Do you like mochi? When we get back to town, we're gonna find out."

Suddenly she's doused in water. Korin hisses, springing away. "Wh— Maren!" Pikki exclaims. The marill glares at them, puffed up like a water balloon. Korin shakes the water from her fur and charges towards Maren, accepting her challenge.

"Stop, you two!" Pikki shouts. Neither listen to her. The shinx has been snubbed and antagonized by Maren ever since she joined them. Sparks build up around her body as she readies an electric attack. Maren balls herself up in a defense curl, ready to take it. She squeals as she's electrocuted, but holds her ground.

"Korin! That's enough!" Pikki recalls her back to her great ball and wipes the water that keeps dripping off her bangs. She approaches the shuddering marill, kneeling down in the grass before her. "Maren… what did you think was going to happen when you blasted us with a water gun?"

She squeaks indignantly, turning away.

Pikki frowns. "I wish you weren't so jealous. You're just as important to me as your teammates, Maren. I know battling is still new to you, but you're doing a good job. And we get to see a water gym next. Doesn't that sound neat?"

Maren plops into the grass, sulking.

"Maybe you want to go back home?" Pikki suggests with a sigh. "I'd rather you didn't, though." _And you'll be even more jealous now that Mom has two new pokemon working for her,_ she adds silently. She glances at Rowan and Godoron to the side. They had been watching the skirmish, but now that it's over, they're resting idly in the cool grass. It's amusing to her that she has three small cute ones and one great fearsome ursaring, even though someday most of them will be— 

"Is that it?" she asks. "Are you upset that Rowan evolved first? And that once you do, you still won't be like him?" Maren doesn't respond, but the gloom on her face tells Pikki she's right. "You don't think that's what I want, do you? A team full of intimidating pokemon like him?"

But that _is_ what she wants, and the marill, the one who's been at her side for years, knows it. "Oh Maren… I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you think that. You _are_ strong, that water gun is nothing to laugh at. You soaked me to the bone! And withstood Korin's spark. You're pretty tough."

She still sulks, but allows Pikki to pull her into her lap. "I couldn't do it without you, Maren. I tell Mom what you're doing all the time, she's really proud of you. And so am I." She hugs the round blue pokemon tight.

Maren squeaks softly, snuggling against Pikki's wet chest. They stay like that for awhile — until Maren's body starts to glow. With a gasp, Pikki sets her down in the grass, watching as the marill evolves right before her eyes. She doubles in size, her ears stretch out long, but when the glow fades, she still has her cute baby face. 

Pikki shrieks with excitement and hugs her again. "Maren! You look awesome now!" The azumarill flexes her tiny arms, puffs up her larger torso, and runs for the lake, diving in. Her teammates and trainer watch her jet underwater, then leap up and launch her strongest water gun yet up in the air. Pikki even lets Korin back out of her ball to see.

When Maren comes back, she extends a paw to Korin, squeaking an apology. The little shinx accepts, nuzzling into it. Pikki snaps a photo on her phone. "I'm gonna send this to Mom," she says, grinning. "She'll be so happy!" She texts it to Ayame right away.

"You know who else will be happy for you? Roark." That makes Maren jump up and down, so Pikki texts him as well. She takes a long look out at Lake Valor, and she can't help feeling something about its energy inspired Maren's evolution. She feels more encouraged than ever, and has a good feeling about the next gym.

"You guys ready to go to Pastoria?" she asks her pokemon. They all chime in their agreement.


	13. Chapter 13

It's nearly sunset. Aden pauses before a sign pointing in the direction of Pastoria City. He should be relieved he's coming up on a town at last. He's in dire need of a shower, ran out of spare cash days ago, and hasn't eaten anything but a handful of berries now and then for over forty-eight hours. He could use a break at a pokemon center to clean up and feast at the free cafeteria. Yet somehow… he doesn't feel up to it. Another town, another gym to sweep, another round of people giving him wary looks and scurrying away. 

The Veilstone Gym was, as expected, far too easy with two flying-types on his team. And the leader was girl no older than thirteen. Seriously, what kind of league is Sinnoh running? He's heard the gym in Pastoria is water-based, and he's got nothing strong against water; Torkoal and Gliscor are weak to it, in fact. Finally, a gym that might actually challenge him.

But instead of being eager, Aden just feels tired. He's tired of this new lifestyle of skirting civilization and foraging for food so he can avoid human contact. He's tired of picturing Joel keeping his former arcanine confined in a pokeball (which they use sparingly in Fiore) on a shelf like a prize. And most of all, he's tired of remembering, every day, how close he came to Haruba Jones in Wayward Cave. How that man had his nosepass kick up a sandstorm so he could flee like a coward.

As he treks towards town, he's still not sure which will win out: his empty stomach, or his desire to keep to himself. That's when he sees a sign that makes the decision for him. It's a wanted poster issuing a cash reward for the capture of two poachers who have been spotted in the Great Marsh. It's the answer to many of Aden's problems — he can earn some money to keep for himself, and be welcomed in Pastoria as a hero. Not to mention the act of protecting some wild pokemon from being captured and sold to gods know where by greedy poachers. Aden would do that anyway.

All of his monetary prizes for defeating the gym leaders are sent to Fall City, as per the arrangement Joel made with the Sinnoh League Association. As a registered trainer, Aden and his pokemon can eat and sleep in any pokemon center for free. But if he wants to buy special items for his team or anything for himself, he must earn his own money on the side. Which hasn't been easy, so he's mostly been roughing it, which is what serious trainers tend to do anyway. He doesn't think it's fair. Well, it _is_ , but he's still cross about the whole situation, which is why some days he'd just rather quit the journey, find some way to break into Joel's office and take his arcanine, and run far, far away.

Instead he rips down the wanted poster, studies the drawings of the two men, and moves for the Great Marsh.

He eats the last of his berry stash to tide him over. He's tracked poachers before in Fiore, and knows what signs to look for; if he's lucky, he'll have them captured before it gets too dark, and will be eating a late dinner like royalty.

The only sounds in the mire are faint croaking and gentle splashing. The resident croagunk seem to be the only pokemon still awake. Flat as far as the eye can see, damp and cool — this place feels otherworldly. By the light of the setting sun, Aden studies the water closest to him. He doesn't really know how many kinds of pokemon live here, but, given the terrain, it has to be mostly water-types. So it stands to reason the traps would be submerged.

As suspected, he discovers a line of rope snaking out of the water, tied to a nearby tree. He tugs on it and pulls out a net, thankfully empty. Then he sends out his gliscor to slice it up with his sharp pincers. Aden pats the pokemon's back. Gliscor grunts, moving away from his trainer's grateful touch.

Aden's pleased smirk fades to a scowl. The razor fang from Mira made his gligar evolve, but the cute and helpful little guy seems to have disappeared. Sweeping the Veilstone Gym should have made Gliscor happy, but it seems to be the opposite. Much larger than he used to be, Gliscor, who flies with more grace than he can walk, moves along the ground in short, stilted hops. This seems to add to his grumpiness. _Like I suddenly have a moody teenager now,_ Aden thinks as he winds up following his pokemon. _I'm not this bad, am I?_

He wonders if his cooperative buddy is still in there somewhere. _What a team I've got,_ he muses. _A gyarados who resents me for dragging him around in a pokeball prison, a torkoal who sucks at battling, and now a gliscor who's cranky about having to cut up some nets rather than doing… whatever they like to do. Night hunting? We're kind of doing that._ He wishes he'd used his old capture styler to forge bonds with the ones he'd caught — although trying to transmit his feelings to Gyarados only caused destruction, not friendship. Maybe he's not cut out to be a ranger after all. He hasn't exactly made good friends with his battling team, either, so maybe he's just meant to be alone— 

A rustle in the brush from behind makes Aden and Gliscor both stop in their tracks. "Get ready," Aden mumbles, expecting a poacher or two to spring out and attack him. Gliscor clamps his pincers.

All that waddles out of the brush is a croagunk. Aden lets out the breath he's been holding, though Gliscor snorts, disappointed. "Hey," Aden whispers to the little pokemon. "What are you doing out here? Not splashing around with your friends?"

The croagunk looks up at him. Its orange cheeks puff out as it lets out a soft, throaty sound. Aden has to chuckle. "Don't worry, I'm just tracking down some bad guys. You see where they went?" It doesn't answer, only continues to stare. "Okay…" Aden responds. "Well, if you do, you let me know, alright?"

He hurries to catch up with his awkwardly-hopping gliscor. Looking over his shoulder, he sees the croagunk following. A marsh native might help him find those poachers even faster — which would be great, Aden thinks as his stomach gives a mighty rumble. He presses a hand to it, swaying a little in his steps. 

And one errant step springs an otherwise-concealed net. It lifts off the ground, tightening at the top, swinging from a tree branch. Aden swears. For all that he scoured the water for these things, he didn't think to keep his eyes on solid ground. Now he's the one caught, like an idiot.

The wild croagunk, naturally, has fled. Gliscor lifts himself up onto a branch of the same tree. Aden is about to call to him when he hears heavy footsteps. "Well, well," a man's voice drawls. "We sure caught somethin'." A flashlight beam blinds him.

"Whatcha doin' out here at night, kid?" a second voice asks. "Thought ya could slice up our nets and get yerself a little reward?" They both snicker.

"Gliscor!" Aden hisses to his pokemon. "Hey! Cut me down, okay? Then we'll knock 'em out, you and me. You ready?"

He tilts his head, blinks his yellow eyes, and leaps away with a flap of his wings, smoothly gliding away. "Gliscor!" Aden shouts, reaching an arm through the net. 

The poachers laugh it up. Aden stares helplessly in the direction his pokemon fled, hoping he'll come back any second now to dive-bomb the men into the marsh. Why would he just abandon him? Was hopping around cutting up nets so humiliating? Was Aden so bad a trainer that Gliscor would flee at the first chance he got? 

Aden clenches his fist, yanks a pokeball from his belt, and releases his gyarados on the ground. The poachers instantly stop laughing. "Holy shit!" one of them cries.

"Holy shit is right!" the other says, shining his flashlight in Gyarados's direction. "It's red!"

"Ice beam!" Aden orders. The beam illuminates the area, and the poachers scurry around to dodge it. And then something else lights up the twilight, something that turns Aden's stomach and makes him drop the pokeball he's holding: a stun gun to the gyarados's side. Despite being a twenty-foot-long behemoth, his weakness to electricity brings him down in a matter of seconds.

"Got it?" One of the poachers nudges the twitching gyarados's side with his foot.

"How we gonna get it back to our truck? Let alone drive off with it?"

The flashlight searches the ground, finds Gyarados's dropped ball. "We're in luck. Our ace trainer up there can't keep hold of any of his pokemon." 

The other poacher snorts. "Nice going, Ace. Thanks for making our job easier." 

Aden watches helplessly as his star pokemon is sucked into an energy beam that retracts him into the palm-sized ball. "Don't go anywhere," one of the men taunts, shining the flashlight in Aden's eyes. Then they leave, laughing to themselves.

"Oh no you don't!" he cries. He sends out his last hope, this time securing her ball in a zippered pocket of his backpack. "Torkoal, please! Flamethrower their asses, do something!"

She starts to charge as best as a slow-moving tortoise can, only to slip on the ice left by Gyarados's beam. She plunges right into the marsh. The poachers chortle in the distance, and soon Aden can no longer hear them. He sighs heavily, slumping down in his rope prison. 

But with another splash and distressed noise from below, he shrugs off his backpack, digs around for his own flashlight, and shines it along the ground until he can see his torkoal. She appears to be trapped in the thick muck. "Don't move so much!" he calls down to her. "You're just making it worse. Stay still, and as soon as I get down from here, I'll get you out."

She obeys, so he starts working at part of the net with his pocket knife. It makes the tiniest cut in the heavy rope after so long. This wouldn't work anyway; he'd likely break a limb or otherwise hurt himself in the fall, if he doesn't land in the bog and get stuck just like Torkoal. It's just as well Gliscor didn't stay to slice him free. He slumps back down, sulking as the net swings to and fro.

Then he hears an odd yet familiar sound. Turning his flashlight back on, he scours the ground below, seeing a croagunk looking up at him. He's certain it's the one from before. "Hey!" he greets it. Despite having a light shining in its face, the croagunk doesn't flee. In fact, it lifts an arm to greet Aden back.

"Can you help us out?" he asks desperately. The small pokemon looks at the stuck torkoal and back up at Aden with an expressionless face. "Yeah, thought so," Aden mumbles. He digs in his bag for his pokedex to look up croagunk's information. It's both fighting and poison-type, so maybe it can help in a different way.

"You wanna chase after those poachers?" Aden asks. "Give 'em a poison jab so they don't make off with my gyarados?" 

The croagunk just stares, cheeks inflating and flattening rhythmically. Aden sighs to himself. A wild pokemon isn't likely to listen to instructions. The act of binding it to a pokeball will sometimes forge a bond of respect, or at least that's what Aden was told. His own team hasn't really proved it. Besides, even if he wanted to seal the croagunk inside a pokeball in order to get it to listen, he doesn't have any left. However, he does have— 

He dives into his bag again, fishing out his old capture styler and a disc. He's glad to see it still works as he turns it on. The capture disc lights up after recognizing the styler's signal. "Okay," Aden says quietly. Glancing down at the curious croagunk, he flings the disc at it and starts looping the styler, which remotely guides the disc around the pokemon's body. It's a little difficult in the confines of a net, but it works — and Croagunk watches the disc, puffing out its cheeks.

_Please,_ Aden thinks hard, putting all his energy into the styler. _Help us out, Croagunk… I really screwed up, I have to save Torkoal and Red before they give up on me too… please, they're my only friends!_

The disc's light pulses brightly: the temporary capture is successful. "Follow those poachers!" Aden commands, pointing in their direction. "Stop them from leaving with my gyarados!"

The croagunk nods and takes off. It's much faster than it looks and acts. Aden grips the capture styler tightly. Now all he can do is wait. "You okay down there, Torkoal?" he asks, checking on her with the flashlight. Obediently, she has stayed still, only her head and part of her long neck sticking out of the bog. "Don't worry, I'm gonna get you out as soon as I get down from here… somehow."

The next thing he knows, he's plummeting — then he's face-down in the marsh. He flails, feels himself sink, muddy water plugging every orifice… and then something grips his hair, pulling his face up out of the bog. He's pretty sure it's Torkoal, from the feel of a mouth clamped onto the back of his head. Then someone else — who is definitely not Torkoal — has his arms, dragging his body effortlessly to solid ground. "You're okay," a male voice says, patting his back. "Can you breathe?"

Aden spits out mud and wipes his stinging eyes. When he can see once more, there's a giant of a man pulling the heavy Torkoal out entirely, setting her in front of him. "Almost drowned by saving you!" he exclaims. "You've got a brave pokemon here!"

She is clearly shaken by the experience, and covered head to toe in muck. As Aden notices her shivering, he realizes her shell's holes are plugged, have been that way for as long as she was trapped. Whatever energy she's kept stored inside her body has been long extinguished, so she's freezing. He throws his arms around her muddy neck. "Thanks, girl," he mutters, humbled by her sacrifice.

He finally looks up at their rescuer, a huge, muscled man wearing some kind of mask that doesn't exactly conceal his face, but rather displays white points above his ears which resemble gills, or perhaps a water spray. Aden thinks he must be seeing things. When he notices the pokemon standing behind this man, he begins to wonder if he's hallucinating. "Gliscor?!" he shouts in disbelief. 

"He flew into town to get help," the masked man says with a grin. "And cut you down from up there."

Aden springs to his feet. "Are you kidding me? You made me think you abandoned us!" He's not sure whether he's livid or relieved. Both, apparently. 

Gliscor just grunts at him. Aden's anger slowly melts as he considers that his eager-to-please gligar might still exist deep down inside. "Thank you, buddy," he says, patting the pokemon's shoulder. "Sorry I doubted you."

Someone comes running up to them. "Wake! I found the poachers!" she announces. "Just laying on the ground a few feet away, unconscious. There's a croagunk standing watch over them. I think it poisoned them."

The man throws back his head, laughing. "That's a riot! Leave it to a croagunk!" He heads in the direction she points out.

"You alright there?" the young lady asks Aden. She's dressed in some kind of green uniform and brown leather jacket that reminds Aden of his own. Thankfully, he'd taken it off and stuffed it in his backpack earlier that day. It would have been ruined by the swamp. Also thankfully, somehow his backpack had fallen onto dry land.

"Yeah." Aden digs for Torkoal's and Gliscor's pokeballs, recalling them back inside. "Who is that guy?"

"Crasher Wake? He's the hero of Pastoria City, of course. You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, I am not." Aden starts to strap on his backpack, but decides to carry it by the handle until he's no longer caked with mud.

"Clearly. What's this?" She holds out the capture styler and disc, which had also landed on the ground from Aden's fall.

He snatches them from her hands, hastily stashing them in his backpack. "It's nothing," he answers to her skeptical face. "Souvenir from home."

Crasher Wake returns before she can question him further. He's carrying an unconscious poacher over each shoulder as if they're feather-light. "Aren't the police here yet? Do I have to take them back to town myself? Not that I couldn't!" He chortles loudly.

"Did you see a pokeball on them?" Aden asks. "They took my gyarados."

"No. But feel free to check their pockets." Wake holds them steady while Aden searches thoroughly. He only finds one ball, and knows it to be his.

He squeezes it tightly before sticking it in his bag with the others. "Thanks, Mr. Wake."

The giant man chuckles. "If there's anyone to thank, it's this clever croagunk here." He nods to the pokemon by his feet. "Should've figured one would protect the marsh. Didn't need those wanted posters after all!"

Aden's heart sinks. "Yeah… I saw one, that's why I ended up here…" 

"Lots of people after that reward! But the important thing is that we have these crooks in custody at last!" Wake shifts his weight, grinning at Aden and the still-curious young woman. Then there's a shout, and several flashlights approaching. "Oh good! The police are here!"

The officers relieve Wake of the poachers, dragging them away to transport them to town in their cars. One of them stays behind to gather all the details, including Aden's account of what exactly happened. He leaves out the part about the capture styler, giving Croagunk all the credit.

"Alright, looks like everything's wrapped up," Wake says as the officer joins her fellows. "How about you take Aden to the pokemon center, Soledad? I'm gonna inspect the area and make sure there aren't any trapped or hurt pokemon."

"Sure thing," she answers. "How 'bout it, you want to eat or clean up first?"

Aden clutches his stomach, which growls again at the prospect of _eat._ "I'd do both at once if I could."

Crasher Wake laughs out loud. "Been there, done that!"

Soledad starts leading the way out of the Great Marsh. "No offense, but I'd just assume pass out right here," Aden tells her. "I don't have the energy to walk all the way to town."

"We won't be walking." She points to a motorcycle parked at the edge of the marsh's entrance.

"Whoa," he mumbles.

Soledad straps on her helmet, tucking back her long hair. "I'll get you to the center in no time. You'll have to hold on tight, though. No extra helmets."

"Uh." Of all the opportunities to ride a motorcycle closely with a beautiful, badass woman, Aden wishes his first one didn't see him caked in mud, close to fainting, and still humiliated from the whole ordeal. 

She swings a leg over the seat and pats it behind her. "Come on, hero. You scared?"

"No!" he protests a little too much. "Just… I don't want to get you dirty."

She grins at him. "I'm a ranger, I get a little dirty every day."

He can't believe his ears. "You're a _what?_ "

Soledad revs up the motor. "I'm part of our fair city's special division — the Pastoria Rangers!"


	14. Chapter 14

At the Pastoria pokemon center, Aden devours just enough to placate his demanding stomach, showers long enough to at least rinse off all the mud, and then sleeps for a solid twelve hours. Upon rising, he takes a lengthy, thorough shower before hitting the cafeteria to gorge himself at last. That's where Soledad finds him, working on his third full plate from the buffet.

"You clean up nice," she comments, casually snagging a piece of toast from his tray.

He flashes her a grin. "Sorry you had to meet me at my worst, then."

She smirks before biting into the toast. By the light of the cafeteria, Aden sees she is even more beautiful than he perceived last night. Tall and tan, long, lustrous brown hair — she's not wearing her green uniform this time, just plain jeans and a t-shirt under the jacket she's shrugged off. He wonders if she rode her motorcycle here, and if he might get to ride with her after brunch.

"So… you said you're a ranger?" he begins.

She brushes off her hands. "Yep. The Pastoria Rangers are a little different than the general rangers you can find all around Sinnoh. Obviously, we stick to town and surrounding areas only. Our primary task is protecting the Great Marsh."

"Yet you had to put up wanted posters." Aden grins.

"Those guys were slippery!" Soledad protests, giving him a not-so-threatening glare. "And there's not that many of us. Besides, Wake thought it would boost morale around town, giving anyone the opportunity to save the marsh."

For the first time that morning, Aden recalls the huge masked man. "Who _is_ that guy?"

"You never heard of Crasher Wake where you're from?" She points to the TV mounted on a nearby wall. It plays clips from a wrestling match, with commentators bantering about it. Aden wonders how that's relevant until he notices a towering wrestler wearing a familiar mask.

"You're kidding," he flatly says.

"He's a pro. And he represents Pastoria City on an international scale," Soledad proudly says. "He donates his winnings to the town, the less fortunate, and our ranger service. He's on the board of the Environmental Protection Bureau, and he practically runs the Pastoria Rangers himself. And he uses his international fame to promote charities all over."

"Oh…" Aden mumbles guiltily, looking at the TV again.

Now the program shows Wake being interviewed. "It's such a privilege to be able to do what I love and what I'm good at," he says, beaming. "And believe me, I do it all for my town, and the people and pokemon who live there."

"That's very noble of you," the interviewer comments.

"Eh." Wake's bare shoulders shrug nonchalantly. "Nothin' really noble about it. People should use their strengths, whatever they are, to help out others. That's my motto. Of course, I'm literally pretty strong!" He flexes his arm and pats the bicep, laughing it up.

The statement strikes a cord with Aden, reminding him of why he became a ranger. Why he was willing to stake out the marsh at sunset, tired and starving. And why he's so frustrated with his gym quest.

Soledad shakes her head, smiling. "They like to play recordings like this here in the pokemon center. Honestly, I think Wake insisted on it. Let all the passing trainers see that their gym leader is a famous wrestling philanthropist."

Aden does a double take. "Gym leader?! On top of everything else?"

"Yeah. Not only is he the hero of Pastoria, he's been in the Sinnoh League for years. Almost a decade."

He leaps up. "I gotta go."

"Wh— hey, wait!" Soledad chases after him. "You're going to challenge him _now?_ "

"I just want to ask him something!" Aden rushes out of the center without stopping. Soledad is on his heels the entire way.

Crasher Wake is right at the entrance, mopping the floors while singing to himself. "Aha! It's Aden! I was going to come see you after I finished up here!" he exclaims, grinning eagerly.

Aden has to catch his breath for a moment. While the sprint to the gym didn't tire him out, his nerves certainly have. "Mr. Wake," he begins, and watches the leader's smile fade in concern for the serious tone. "I want to ask you for a favor."

"Of course," Wake responds more softly.

Aden sucks in his breath and bows deeply at the waist. "Please take me on as your apprentice! And let me join the Pastoria Rangers!"

Behind him, Soledad gasps quietly. Aden can tell she and Wake are giving one another looks, but he stays bowed until he gets his answer.

Crasher Wake lets out a booming laugh.

Aden snaps back upright. "I'm serious! I saw one of your interviews, and what you said about using your strengths for the greater good… listen, I used to be a pokemon ranger! Tracking those poachers reminded me of how great it was! But, uh, I decided to try the gym challenge, and traveling by foot and battling isn't for me! I want to go back to my old life!"

At least he's stopped laughing. That's when Aden notices a croagunk hanging around, standing casually by the mop bucket as if it's helping to clean up. "Is that—" he starts to ask.

"He's yours, isn't he?" Wake asks in an uncharacteristically calm tone.

"From last night? No," Aden says, glancing at Soledad by his side. "I mean, I recognize him because I met him while slicing up nets, but I didn't catch him. I'm out of pokeballs anyway."

"You did something to make him go with you. I saw him myself, followed you and Soledad as far as her bike. Then I found him headed for town by the time I was done sweeping the marsh. So I brought him to the gym."

Soledad's eyebrow is raised high. "That machine of yours," she says.

Aden looks from one to the other, each waiting for an explanation. "Okay… it's a capture styler. A type of temporary capture device developed and used solely by rangers in Fiore and Almia. I used it on Croagunk to get him to poison those men." The little pokemon nods. "But… he completed the task, I don't know why he came to town."

"Seems like he wants to join you," Wake says, grinning.

"Why would you lie about that?" Soledad asks, less amused. "By right, the reward money is yours."

Aden's stomach twists into knots. "Because… I didn't return the styler to my captain. It's stolen, and I'm already—" He stops himself before he says too much.

No one says anything for a moment. "I—" Aden speaks up. "I was going to give up the reward and say Croagunk acted on his own so you wouldn't know."

Wake laughs again. "You're worrying far too much! But as for Croagunk, it's my opinion as a gym leader that he wants to be part of your team. It's also my opinion that you shouldn't quit your journey so soon. It's always difficult at the beginning, but you're only getting stronger."

"That's the thing, it's not difficult!" Aden argues. "It's easy, and it's boring!"

"Well, that's no good! Battles should be fun!" Wake declares. "Challenge me for a Fen Badge, and I promise I won't go easy on you! And you'll see how thrilling a good match can get!" The longer he talks about it, the more exuberant he sounds, like talking about wrestling on TV.

The enthusiasm is infectious. "Okay, you've got a deal," Aden agrees.

"Good! Because I sure can't wait for my gyarados to face off against your red one!"

"Yeah! I— wait…" Aden's mirrored grin vanishes. "How did you know I have a red gyarados?"

"Ah—" Wake is suddenly caught off guard.

"You looked up my profile, didn't you?"

The giant man leans on the mop handle. "Of course I did," he somberly replies.

"So you know everything, huh?"

"What are you talking about?" asks a perplexed Soledad.

Aden takes a step backwards. "I can't start over anywhere, can I? I'll never be a ranger again, is that what you're trying to tell me? Is that why you're pushing me to battle?"

"Listen, Aden—" Wake starts to say.

"I don't need another lecture!" he snaps. "Keep your reward money! Give it back to the town, for all I care!" With that, he turns on his heel and flees the Pastoria Gym, despite the leader calling after him.

The athletic Soledad is fresh on his heels. "Aden, wait!" she cries, seizing his arm. "I don't understand any of this!"

He yanks away. "Careful, you don't want to get too close. You don't know what I'm capable of."

"No, I don't! What the _hell_ is going on?"

"This was all a mistake. Coming to Sinnoh was a huge mistake." He turns, storming off again.

He trods back to the pokemon center. What was he _thinking?_ A dangerous criminal like himself, taken under the wing of the great Crasher Wake? It would damage the leader's reputation more than absolve Aden's. And ruin the public image of the Pastoria Rangers.

And now he's too ashamed to face Wake again. Ashamed of his past, and that he threw a tantrum and ran off. He can't be around anyone — all he'll do is rub them the wrong way, make the wrong move in bed and get accused of sexual assault, snap at those he's trying to befriend and prove what a monster he is. He's going to give up and go live alone in the mountains, and if his pokemon still want to be around him, that will be their decision to make.

With all his belongings hurriedly packed up, he makes to leave the center. As soon as the door slides open, he's face-to-face with someone about to come inside. "Aden!" she exclaims.

It's the marill girl from Jubilife. She beams at him, gushing, "I'm so glad I ran into you again! Almost literally, huh? How's your journey going?"

"I quit," he grumbles, trying to pass around her. For such a short girl, she's impeding him like a boulder.

"What? Why?" Just as soon as he's able to move past her, she jumps in front of path. "Aden, what's wrong?"

He makes himself stop moving, and tries to control his rapid breathing. "I need to go," he mutters. "Please let me pass."

She steps aside. "Did something happen?"

Aden pauses, gripping the strap of his backpack.

Then he sees Soledad approaching. "Are you seriously leaving?" she demands, standing before him with her hands on her hips. "I thought you wanted to be a ranger!"

It's too much. His feelings boil over before he can control himself. His world turns red. "I don't deserve to be a ranger!" he snarls.

Soledad flinches. If she so desperately wants an explanation, she'll get one.

"I'm no good at it anyway! What kind of ranger gets himself trapped in a net like a jackass? What kind of ranger assaults people and destroys a town?" Once the tirade starts, Aden can't stop it. "And then wrecks gyms and hurts his rival's marill as soon as he's trying to start over? I give up! Getting badges won't change what I've done, and I'm a fucking idiot if I believe Joel will just hand back my arcanine when I show them to him and go 'no hard feelings, here's your next assignment'!"

He stops. His breath comes in short, hard gasps once he realizes what he's just admitted to the girls and to himself. Joel won't give his partner back. Surely by the time Aden is finished in Sinnoh, the arcanine will be retrained and given to another ranger. This little badge quest is truly futile.

"Aden…" the marill girl whispers. It dawns on him that he can't really remember her name. And after she wanted them to be friendly rivals. He truly is the worst.

Soledad appears less sympathetic. "Well, from over here, it looks like you put your own needs aside to hunt some poachers, got a wild croagunk to help you out, and are so close to your pokemon that they saved your life of their own accord. So I'd say you've got the makings of a very good ranger."

"I'm sure you didn't mean for those things to happen," the other girl chimes in. "You're a good person deep down."

"You don't know that," Aden says quietly. "You don't know anything about me. You should be afraid of me. Everyone else is."

"Well, I'm not," she insists. "I say you're good, and that we're friends. So you'd better stick around and battle me again. Maren's an azumarill now, and she wants to show you how tough she's gotten."

Soledad chuckles. "Look, I'll let you in on a secret. And I guess I'll tell your new best friend too. I used to be in a gang."

Aden is stunned out of brooding. "For real?"

"The real deal. An all-girl motorcycle gang in Jubilife City. We stole pokemon and sold them to the highest bidder. Pretty rotten, huh?"

"Huh… what happened?"

"This was several years ago, I was still a naive kid. Somehow I believed we were selling to private collectors. Turns out most of our buyers were part of some organization that did experiments on them. Then there was a mangy little poochyena that took to me, and I couldn't bear to hand him over, knowing what would become of him." She smiles bitterly. "I fought with the other girls over it, and they kicked my ass. So I got on my bike and left. I kept riding and didn't stop, just as long as Arlo and I were far away from them. The other side of Mt. Coronet seemed like the best idea."

"So you wound up here?" Aden guesses.

"We did. Crasher Wake found me about to pass out. When I told him the story, he offered us sanctuary. So I joined the Pastoria Rangers to help protect his town. This is my home now, and this is my new life. And it's all thanks to him."

Again, Aden is moved by the generosity of Crasher Wake. He wants to be like him… if that is even possible.

Soledad looks a little embarrassed. "The point is, Wake knew where I'd come from and what I had done, and gave me a second chance. He'll do the same for you. I promise."

He closes his eyes. He wants her to be right. And he wants to start over yet again. He'd give up everything — the badge quest, the hunt for Haruba Jones, even — if he could have the noble life of a ranger in humble Pastoria City. He's so tired of pursuing the things he hates.

"Aden?" the marill girl speaks up softly.

A sob escapes his throat. He hides his eyes in the sleeve of his leather jacket. This is mortifying. He barely knows these two, and he's crying in front of them like they're his closest friends. "Okay," he mumbles, fighting to gain his composure. "I'll stay." He sniffles and snorts, wipes his eyes, and tries to laugh it off. "Gods. I've got problems."

Soledad punches his shoulder lightly. "Just a few."

He looks down at the shorter girl, who gives him a sympathetic smile. "I'm really sorry, I'm a dumbass," he says. "What's your name again?"

"It's Pirika," she says, and doesn't even sound mad that he forgot. "My friends call me Pikki, though."

"Okay, Pikki. I'd be happy to battle you and Maren. I'll watch you challenge Wake, too."

She beams. "I'd like that! Oh, but I can't watch you? Are you really quitting the gyms?"

Aden remembers how excited Wake was for a gyarados-on-gyarados battle. If he wants to apologize to his would-be savior, he should honor that, at the very least. "Maybe not. We'll see"

"Good." She takes his hand. "Let's go check in already. I'm hungry."

"Me too, actually."

"Are you kidding? _Again?_ " Soledad teases.

}{}{}{}{}{

Over the next few days, Aden rests, goes with Soledad on a couple of ranger missions, and trains with Pikki. It's decided they'll challenge Wake together so they can watch one another. After seeing clips of his battling, as well as his wrestling, Pikki, who came to Pastoria brimming with confidence, becomes apprehensive about winning. Even armed with her secret weapon shinx, Wake is a veteran, prepared for anything.

Aden promises he will wait until she's ready. He doesn't mind at all — taking his time in a town is a relaxing change of pace. Ever since his outburst, he's felt a lot calmer.

One day, over lunch in the pokemon center, Pikki helps him out by giving him one of her great balls so he can catch Croagunk officially. He explains to her what happened in Fall City, and why he hasn't had any spare cash for supplies. Pragmatically, Pikki tells him to get a side job like any sensible trainer would, especially since he's taking a breather from traveling.

"Oh... right," he says, feeling kind of dumb. "I thought I might sell this instead." Digging in his backpack, he shows her the glittering blue stone from Wayward Cave.

Her eyes, also blue, light up. "That's beautiful! Where did you get it?"

"A cave near Eterna. Got kinda banged up for it, too." It's not a total lie — he just doesn't want her to know the whole story.

"It looks a lot like this." Pikki gets in her own backpack and pulls out a wooden flute. "See the azure inlay?"

"Azure?" Aden repeats, studying the identified rock in his hand. While at first glad that he has a precious stone which he can sell for a high price, he has to wonder why Haruba Jones was digging for it.

Then he looks at the simple instrument in Pikki's hands. "That have any significance? A flute in blue, like a certain lost artifact that just found its way back to Sinnoh?"

"Good observation. Hey!" she suddenly exclaims. "Did you know? Someone _bought_ the Azure Flute!"

Aden blinks. There's no way this is all a coincidence. "Already? Someone must be collecting azure," he reasons, gripping his piece. "I wonder what for…" 

"It's the Shin'ai's most sacred stone," Pikki says thoughtfully. "Worth a fortune now."

"And I have a bad feeling about just who's supplying it… that explains a lot."

"Hmm?"

Aden realizes he's thinking out loud. "Nothing. Never mind." He quickly drops the rock back in his bag. He's going to forget about that man and focus on building a new life for himself. That means talking to his friend, not obsessing over theories. "I think I'll apply for work at the pokemart," he says instead. "They probably always need help."

"Good thinking. You do that, and maybe we can get in some training?"

"You're still not ready for the gym?"

Pikki bites her bottom lip. "Wake is so much stronger than the last three leaders… ah— not to say they _aren't_ , some are very good at what they do…"

Aden wonders what she's talking about as she shyly trails off. Of the first three, only the grass leader seems to know what she's doing. He just had the upper hand against her team. The coal miner guy and little fighting girl are still brand new, and not that strong at all, in Aden's opinion.

"I just want to be absolutely sure I'm ready to face a leader like Wake, is all," Pikki concludes. "Sorry if I'm holding you up."

"Nah, don't worry. It's nice to pace myself. And hang out with Soledad." He grins.

She smiles back. "You like her, huh?"

"I dunno. Maybe, a little bit. I'm still traumatized from my last so-called girlfriend." He rolls his eyes. "Besides, Soledad and I might wind up working together. No more dating rangers in the same squad, I told myself. Tends to result in destroyed cities."

"That's not funny, Aden."

"I can't even joke about it?"

Soledad finds them in the cafeteria after getting her mightyena a checkup at the infirmary. "Anything good today?" She asks, sliding into the booth next to Pikki, across from Aden.

"It's alright," Pikki says. "You must know all the best places to eat in town, though."

"I do." Soledad smiles at her. "What kind of food do you like?"

"Well, my mom runs her own Shin'ai restaurant, which I grew up in, so I'm a little partial to that."

"Oh yeah? Like Maratto up in Hallows Town?"

"Exactly! She got her start there!" Pikki beams, ecstatic. "Maratto just became my sponsor, too!"

"You got a sponsor already?" Aden asks incredulously. It seems like she's starting to surpass him in this rivalry after all.

"Well, we'd better give Maratto plenty of business," Soledad says, leaning into her hand, elbow propped up on the table as she inches a little closer. "You wanna go there sometime? Just the two of us?"

Pikki appears agreeable until Aden chokes on his drink. As she looks to him, her eagerness gradually fades into astonishment. "Um…" she says over Aden's coughing. "Wow. Thanks, Soledad, but… I'm not…" 

She just smiles. "It's okay. Just thought I'd give it a shot anyway."

"It would be fun if all three of us went, though!" Pikki presses. "Or— well, I've been trying to invite my friend out here, only he's really busy with work. But if he made it, we could double date!" She nods at Aden encouragingly.

"I can't fit all of you on my bike." Soledad is holding back laughter. "Ah, well. It's not every day a cute girl comes through Pastoria, so I try to meet as many as I can."

Aden pretends to take another drink, scowling behind his glass.

Soledad turns her attention to him, deftly changing the subject. "You've talked to Wake since that first day, right? He asked me this morning how you're doing."

"Yeah, I have. I apologized and everything." He finishes the last bite off his plate. "We've been training hard, is all." He nods to Pikki, who has started texting on her phone, which just chimed.

"Ah yes, you're going to challenge him together. I want to be there for that. Wake's battles are great. But you'll get wet, so don't wear your leather jacket."

"I've got some weaknesses to water, so it might actually be interesting this time," Aden says. "I'm looking forward to it. And Pikki and her shinx are ready, if you ask me. She needs to be more confident." He grins and nudges her with his foot, wondering if she's even paying attention.

She's not. Her eyes are glued to her screen, and they're getting wider by the second. "Oh my gods," she murmurs, then looks up incredulously at the other two. "He— he invited me to go away this weekend."

"Your 'friend'?" Soledad asks, amused. "Go get it, girl."

"For training!" she explains, blushing. "He's going to Iron Island to train with his dad… and he asked if I want to come along. To help prepare me for Wake."

Aden frowns. "What about all the training _we've_ done? I just said I think you're ready!"

"Yeah, but his father is a— he's a master. I think he can give me a different perspective!"

"And you need to go all the way to some island, like, _tomorrow_ for that? We can go to the gym _today_ , then you can have your date!"

"It's not a date!"

"It totally sounds like one! 'Training.'" He makes air quotes. "Who _is_ this guy, even?"

Soledad laughs behind her hand. "You're so protective, Aden. His _dad_ will be there. And Iron Island isn't exactly a romantic hotspot, it's an abandoned ore mine. Literally the only reason to go there is to toughen up by battling rock and steel pokemon. Or so I've heard."

Aden slumps back, crossing his arms. "I still don't think it's a good idea."

"Just wait for me, okay?" Pikki stands, picking up her tray. "I promise I'll be ready to challenge Wake as soon as I get back. Will you tell him for me? You take the weekend off too. Maybe you and Soledad can… uh… go look for cute girls together?"

Soledad laughs harder. "I like the way you think! This'll be a good weekend for all of us, huh?"

Aden snatches his drink to hide his face. He's disappointed about Soledad, and oddly wary over Pikki going away with some guy he doesn't know, but at the same time, he's glad. He has friends, his pokemon, and the chance for a fresh start in Pastoria City. Beats wandering Sinnoh in solitude, sulking over his past. What would he do with himself then — follow Haruba Jones across the land like some kind of stalker? And yet… he promised his mother… 

He drains his glass. Now is not the time to think about that. There are other things in his life now. It will be alright. Everything will be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're familiar with the first Pokemon Ranger game, then you know about the player characters Lunick and Solana. I played as Lunick, whom I named Aden, so Aden's appearance is based off his just slightly. Soledad, as a character, came about much later; I made her for RP purposes that had nothing to do with ranger-ing. I wanted to add her to Auraverse, so I decided she could be a ranger whom Aden meets in a different setting than the Fiore/Almia outfit he's used to. _Then_ I realized her name contains the same "Sol" as the game's female protag, and my mind was blown. My subconscious knows what it's doing, and apparently has learned future sight.
> 
> A big thing in Pokemon Ranger was getting the Manaphy egg and sending it to a trustworthy trainer in Sinnoh once DP was released the following spring. This was the first instance of Aden, my casual Ranger character, having a connection to Pikki, my more involved Diamond character. What exactly could their connection be, I asked myself; why would a ranger in Fiore choose _her,_ a Sinnohan trainer he's never met? In RP, Aden came to Sinnoh looking for her after sending her the Manaphy egg — there was a reason he knew who she was, but that's not a factor in this story… yet. Also, I promise she isn't going to be gifted any legendary pokemon. Manaphy, however, might be involved in a future installment, as a nod to the event that indirectly led to Aden developing a life of his own.


	15. Iron Island Arc

Hearthome City is a nice place, Roark decides. He never knew anything about it besides that it's Sinnoh's home for contests, as well as Fantina's gym. But standing by his truck, waiting outside the unmistakable foreign cathedral, he's had plenty of time to observe the town and its people. It has a lively, friendly atmosphere. He's seen more couples with young children than anyone else, so it seems to be the place to start a family. He'll have to keep that in mind if the time ever comes that he wants to leave Oreburgh — not that Canalave isn't a great place to grow up.

Then he notices Pikki approaching, and decides he's getting ahead of himself. She jogs up to him, and he can't help but smile, because her eagerness is infectious. She pauses before him, catching her breath a little, and just says "hi" with a nice smile.

"Hi. Here, I brought you something." He reaches into the truck bed and hands her a pickaxe.

She stares at it, puzzled. "Thanks? But what's it for?"

"I came to pick you up, see."

She gives him that same look as before, hands it back, and turns around. "Nope, changed my mind. I'm going back to Pastoria."

"No, don't go!" Laughing, he reaches for her arm. "I had to get it out of my system. No more bad puns, I promise."

She smirks up at him. "Anyway, thanks for meeting me here. You really didn't have to, you're probably tired from work." 

"It's alright. I'm sorry we'll be getting back so late, but I didn't want you to have to come all the way to Oreburgh on your own." Roark drops the pickaxe back in its place.

"You're so nice," Pikki says. "It _almost_ makes up for your sense of humor."

"Well, now I'm just offended," he teases, holding open the passenger door for her. His pile of junk mail is still on the seat, so he hurriedly sweeps it to the floor. "Sorry. I'll throw all that out one of these days."

"How about as soon as you get home?" She starts picking up the envelopes, straightening them in her hands. 

"Okay, okay." He starts up the engine. "So, I have some news for you that might make your visit to Iron Island all the more worthwhile. Riley's coming along. You said you're kind of friends with him, right? Now you can see him again."

Pikki gasps. "I do have to thank him for helping me. Does he know I'll be there?"

"Uh…" Roark stalls while making a turn. "Not… exactly. I cleared it with Dad to bring someone along, don't worry. And I didn't know Riley would be there until this morning." He starts to wonder if this weekend was meant to be like the old times, just the three of them — but then, Byron _did_ give his okay for Roark to bring a friend.

"I hope I'm not intruding on some family weekend," Pikki says, echoing his thoughts.

"Nah. It's training, not like… family bonding time. Besides, he probably invited Riley for twice the kicking of my ass." He sighs. "Dad's a master of steel-types and defense strategies, but Riley's good at really powerful attacks, fighting moves. They're both going to put me through the wringer."

"You'll be okay. Besides, they have to give you a break and help me train too, right?"

Roark smiles. "Yeah. Dad and Wake have known each other for a long time, so he can definitely give you some pointers."

After the drive through the mountains and back to Oreburgh, he drops her off at the pokemon center for the night. He promises to pick her up first thing in the morning, but she suggests meeting him at his house, as the center is in the opposite direction as their destination. He can't argue with that logic, so he gives her his address and heads home to do laundry, pack up for the weekend, and throw away the neat stack of junk mail Pikki left on the seat.

Just after sunrise, she shows up and surprises him with a bagel sandwich from the pokemon center's breakfast buffet. "I already ate," she explains. "And this way we don't have to stop, and you don't have an excuse to skip breakfast."

Roark laughs. "Man, you think of everything. And you're always feeding me." But after one bite, he's grateful, because it's pretty good. There's cream cheese and smoked fish involved.

"I grew up in a restaurant. It's what we do there."

"Oh, right. Hey, does that mean you can cook?"

"A little bit!" she boasts.

Roark starts to wonder if she's a good cook, and how he can ask to find out. That only reminds him of something else. "Oh, so, I'd invite you in for a bit, but it's a mess in there. You don't want to see it. Even I don't want to see it, which is why I ignore it whenever I come home."

Pikki presses her lips together, looking far too amused. "Well, maybe you should ask your dad to come over and help clean it, since you helped him," she suggests.

"Ha! That was so weird. I wonder if his… friend… ever saw the results." He still can't wrap his head around Byron finally having a— what does he call him, even? A boyfriend? That doesn't sound right for a man over forty. What would the date, as he's settled on, think about Byron going away to Iron Island for the weekend? Roark would think his father would want to invite him along so he could show off his battling prowess. He imagines Byron flexing so hard his shirt tears to shreds, while some faceless man swoons on the sidelines. He shakes his head with a disgusted sound.

"What?" Pikki asks with concern.

"Nothing. Just my imagination gets the better of me whenever I stop and consider that my dad is dating." He takes a huge bite of his sandwich, concentrating solely on the savory flavor.

"I think it's cute, just from what you told me. Maybe we can get some dirt out of him." She looks way too excited about the prospect.

"You don' know my da' very well," Roark says with his mouth full. He swallows before continuing. "He never talks about himself, or gets very serious about his feelings. That's why it's so _bizarre_ that he's seeing someone and cleaning his entire apartment for him."

"That's extra adorable!" Pikki exclaims. "It must be love~"

"Oh my gods. Come on, time to go." He grabs his duffel bag, locks the front door, and marches to his truck.

During the two-hour drive, which includes Friday morning gridlock in Jubilife, they trade stories about pokemon training. Roark skips any tales about his gym, so it's more like Pikki describing her travels, which is fine by him. The other thing they don't talk about is the mine, as agreed upon earlier. Things have calmed down since the Fuego Ironworks shutdown a couple weeks ago, but Roark would still rather leave it — and the gym — behind this weekend. There's a persistent feeling among the miners that something else is about to happen, and their foreman taking off is a bad omen. Roark likes them all, but sometimes he wonders about their common sense.

But as soon as he steps out in Canalave City, his vibrant, colorful hometown, he feels a sense of peace. Pikki, too, has her breath taken away. "I can smell the sea!" she exclaims. "It's different than home, somehow." She inhales again.

Roark smiles as he watches her drink in the surroundings on their way to the ferry. He likes Oreburgh, especially for the Mining Museum, but he will happily return to Canalave for the next phase of his life. Even though there's no mining to be done here, Byron would certainly have him take over the gym. Roark wonders if he'll even want to.

"I wish we could sightsee," Pikki says, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Next time," Roark absently tells her. He feels like he'd rather put off the ferry ride to show her some of his favorite places.

"Next time?"

"Uh…" Did he say that out loud? "I mean, you'll be here again in no time to fight for a Mine Badge, and… I'll see about taking another long weekend to come along. That's a battle I've gotta watch."

"Really? That'd be great!" She appears to be very excited by the idea. The more he thinks about it, he's a little excited himself.

She pulls him towards the boarding ferry. Roark is used to the boat rides, but watching her fascination with it makes him enjoy it like it's his first time. She seems to be delighted by everything she sees and does. Even her training journey, which has had its share of defeats and setbacks, hasn't brought her down. Does anything bother or upset her? Though Roark is glad to see her like this. Her cheerful demeanor is a welcome change from weeks of angry and suspicious miners. He's happy he bit the bullet and invited her after all.

In a short time, they arrive at Iron Island, at Byron's little cabin that stands guard outside the old iron mine. "I'm sure they're already here. You ready?" Roark asks as they approach the cabin. It sits near the edge of a short cliff, overlooking the sea. 

A misty wind blows Pikki's hair across her face, and she holds it back. "Yeah. A little nervous, though."

"Aw, don't be nervous. Dad's loud and impulsive, but he's not scary." He opens the door, calling, "Hello?" 

"There you are!" Byron announces. He's sitting on the couch, looking relaxed with his feet propped up on the coffee table. "I was startin' to wonder!"

"I had to drive to town first, remember?" Roark sets down his duffel bag. "Dad, this is my friend Pirika." He motions her forward, and she shyly waves.

Byron blinks, staring at her. It's uncharacteristically quiet for too long, so Roark speaks up. "Uh… is Riley here yet?"

"I'm here!" Riley calls from the kitchen, joining them right away. "Oh! It's Miss Pirika!"

"Hi," she says softly. "It's nice to see you again."

"You're friends with Roark?" Riley asks, sounding amused. "Isn't that a nice coincidence?" He looks pointedly at Byron.

Byron looks back at him, purposefully ignoring the other two. "She can't stay here," he declares.

"What?" Riley and Roark both respond at once. Roark, standing behind Pikki, places his hands on her shoulders.

"For one thing, where's she gonna sleep?"

"Wh—" Roark starts to ask what kind of question that is. "I already assumed Riley gets the second room, so we'll stay in the living room. I'm just gonna fall asleep playing my old games, like always."

"Oh no you don't," Byron says. " _She's_ gonna get the room."

"Then where will Riley sleep?"

Riley suppresses a chuckle, especially as Byron shoots him a look. "I'll camp outside under the stars, like Alhabor and I used to. Even when we trained here way back when. It'll be nostalgic," he loftily answers.

"There, problem solved," Roark says. "Dad, _what_ is the big deal?"

Byron still looks pissed. "You didn't say your friend is a _girl._ "

Roark's grip tightens on her shoulders as he feels her tensing. "I didn't think that mattered? She's a trainer with three badges, so I invited her for training! Wake is a lot stronger than Gardenia and Maylene, so I thought you could help out with her defense. And you said it was okay!"

"Byron," Riley says firmly, "I know her as well. And it sounds like her journey has been productive thus far, so let's help her continue her success. Plus, I'd like to see what pokemon she has now." He smiles at her.

Byron grunts, folding his arms across his chest. "Fine," he mutters.

"Come on," Roark says to Pikki, turning her towards the bedrooms. The doors for them are in the back of the living room, side by side, with a third door on the right for the bathroom.

"Should I leave?" Pikki whispers as Roark closes the door behind them. He leaves it open slightly ajar, so Byron doesn't get suspicious, or whatever the hell his problem is.

"Not at all. You didn't come all this way just to turn around and go back."

"I know he prefers men, but… does he have a problem with women?"

"No!" Roark immediately answers. "At least… I never got that impression? One of his gym apprentices is a woman. She even has an azumarill."

"Well, that's something, at least." She frowns. "This is going to be awkward all weekend. Maybe you and he should stick together, and I can go off somewhere with Riley."

Roark sighs, pushing back the hair in his face. "I'll see if I can talk to him alone. He's probably just being weird. Sometimes I think he wants father-son alone time, but he never admits it. If it wasn't okay to bring you along, he should have said so. And Riley's here, besides. So he's going to have to deal with it."

"I don't want to cause problems, though…" 

"You won't. I bet if you battle with him, he'll warm up to you. Or if he watches you face off with Riley. He loves a good battle."

Roark takes his dad outside for a match right away, to see if that helps him blow off some steam. Byron does seem to enjoy himself, especially as he blocks all of the fast and hard attacks which Roark has been working on lately. "You see that! He's not gonna beat his old man yet!" Byron shouts ecstatically upon his win. He's still laughing and gloating as he heads back inside first with Riley.

"He really _is_ tough," Pikki says to Roark. "You weren't exaggerating about his defense."

"I thought he'd at least be impressed that my attacks are stronger," he answers with a scowl. "I've spent all my free time training my team."

" _I_ thought you seemed stronger since I battled you. That was only a month ago, too."

Roark's frown deepens. "Thanks. I didn't want to tell you, but I'm back on my losing streak, despite all my hard work. Trainers that come through, young kids, they call me an easy win to my face, make fun of rock-types' weaknesses… no respect whatsoever for my leader position. And I don't have _time_ to train any more than I already am, with what's been going on at the mine. Maybe if I stop sleeping? I don't know how else to get stronger. Ugh." He kicks at the ground.

Pikki takes his arm, squeezing it. "I'm so sorry, Roark. You _are_ a good leader, and you do so much. The mine wouldn't run so safely without you. Those trainers need to understand that."

He pats her hand. "Thanks. I'm glad you do, at least." 

"Well, of course. You're the Rock, after all." 

Now he chuckles, feeling his frustration disappear. "Can I battle you tomorrow, too? Maren's going to be a tough opponent now that she's evolved."

"Yeah!" She hops in place eagerly. "I bet if your dad watches you fight someone else, objectively, he'll notice your strengths more."

Roark hopes so as they finally go inside. Riley is finishing up dinner, and Byron seems to be in better spirits after a victory and food coming his way. "All right, children," Riley says authoritatively, handing each one a plate. "Eat up and get plenty of rest. The real training starts tomorrow morning."

"Is this why Dad invited you? To feed us?" Roark jokes. He's grateful for it, however — beats some microwaved food or cold sandwiches, if Byron had his way.

"If that's what you think, then maybe you don't want the gift I've brought you," Riley quips.

"A gift?"

They all take seats around the small, square kitchen table. "I thought about it for awhile," Riley continues. "And watching you battle, I think you could use a secret weapon." He hands Roark a plain pokeball. "I caught this one a few years ago and trained him well. But you'll have to work with him to incorporate him into your own battle style. He's still rather vicious, so you probably want to save him for battles that _don't_ take place in your gym."

Roark stares at the ball in his hand, stunned. "You're _giving_ me a pokemon you trained?"

"Use him wisely." He just smiles.

After dinner, Byron insists they all go to bed, because training begins at dawn. Pikki, who has stayed quiet all evening, looks relieved to retreat to her room. Before heading outside, Riley tells Roark to go to sleep right away and not play any of his video games. Roark almost goes _yes, Mom,_ before deciding that's weird, and just bids his old friend goodnight instead. 

He would be drifting off, as he can normally fall asleep quickly, but he has a lot on his mind suddenly. He wonders what ferocious pokemon Riley has gifted him, and if Byron will give Pikki some training or even acknowledge her, and how she's doing in the room by herself. He was so happy to have her along, and now he feels like it might have been a selfish mistake. He invited Pikki for _her_ benefit, however — mostly.

He shifts his weight, running through a list of fossil classifications so he stops speculating about other things. It starts to work, making him drift off, when he hears a door open. Is Byron checking up on him? He lays still, pretending to be sound asleep.

"Hey," comes a soft whisper, along with a gentle poke on his shoulder. Roark rolls onto his back again, seeing Pikki looming over him.

"Hey, what's up?" He scoots back to sit more upright against his pillow. "Can't sleep?"

"Not really. Plus, I think I hear voices from your dad's room."

Roark cranes his neck over his shoulder, looking towards Byron's room. "Eh, Riley probably just went to his window."

"I dunno… it sounded like they were both in there. I can't hear what they're saying though. Your dad is somehow keeping his voice low. I guess that's considerate of him."

Roark shrugs. "Well, if they keep you up, let me know and I'll bang on the door. How dare Riley tell me not to play my games if he's gonna be up all night talking to Dad."

In the darkness, he watches her fold her arms on top the couch, leaning over it more. "It'd be nice to play for a bit until I get tired."

"Yeah…" Even though he could easily fall asleep, he agrees it would be fun and relaxing. "Maybe tomorrow after dinner."

"Maybe." It seems like she's leaning in a little closer. Or maybe without his glasses, in the dark, his eyes and mind are playing tricks on him. 

"You should go back to bed," he says. "You'll need your rest too, for all that training."

She sighs. "I guess…" 

"But if you need anything, come get me. If my dad's snoring wakes you up, I'll stuff a sock in his mouth."

She giggles lightly. "Will do. 'Night."

"'Night." He watches her disappear in the darkness, hears her door close. With a sigh, he settles back down, pulling the blanket up higher. It seemed like she wanted something, but what? Just to sit on the couch with him and stay up longer together? That would have been nice, he thinks. He makes himself go back to counting fossil types so he can fall asleep faster.

The next thing he knows, he wakes up to the sound and smell of something frying in the kitchen. Daylight streams through the thin white curtains. Roark stumbles to the adjacent room, finding only Riley.

"'Morning," Riley greets him cheerfully. "Did I wake you? You're the first one up."

"Hnn… yeah. Smells good."

"That's one way to get you guys out of bed."

"M'gonna be back," Roark mumbles sleepily, turning around for the bathroom. He thinks of how he never heard Riley come inside to start breakfast. But Riley is a pretty quiet person, and it's mostly the delicious smell that pulled Roark from slumber. He's not surprised that his dad is still asleep, and wonders if Pikki is. Then he realizes that she's in the next room over, that they slept under the same roof, and that amuses him somehow.

His amusement comes to an abrupt halt as he goes to wash his hands. A familiar sight makes him pause and stare until he can figure out just _where_ he's seen this before: many loose black hairs scattered over a white sink.

It hits him like a haywire dump truck. He snatches a hair and rushes to Pikki's door. Common sense stops him at the last second from bursting in; he knocks as quietly as he can so Riley doesn't hear. To his immense relief, she opens the door a crack. "Hi," she whispers. "Is it time to get up? Give me a minute to—"

Roark doesn't wait. He squirms in and shuts the door behind him. "Look!" he hisses, brandishing the hair in front of Pikki's face.

She looks at it, then up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Um…" 

"It's Riley!" Roark blurts out.

"He… sheds?"

"He's the one who shed all over my dad's sink!"

Pikki's blue eyes grow twice as wide as they already are. Her hands fly up to cover her mouth. 

"Riley is…" Roark starts to confirm, but can't bring himself to say it out loud. Pikki looks as though she's suppressing a fit of giggles, but he doesn't find it very funny. "Why wouldn't they tell me?" he asks, distraught.

"Oh…" she says seriously. "Maybe they're waiting for the right time?"

"How much longer can that take? They've been— for weeks! Maybe months!" He starts pacing back and forth, piecing together bits of information: the obsessive apartment cleaning, the sly looks and evasive answers Riley gave whenever Roark brought up Canalave or his father.

"Maybe it's a coincidence?" Pikki suggests. "He's been to your dad's to catch up, it's not a stretch to say he combed his hair in the bathroom before leaving, right? That doesn't mean they're…" 

"No, there's too many other clues that point to it… oh gods!" Roark exclaims suddenly. He has to sit down on the bed for this realization. "You heard them! He didn't sleep outside at all!"

This time she does laugh a little. "What did he do, climb in the window?"

"How else?! Oh my gods… I don't want to think about what they did in there…" 

Pikki sits down beside him. "I'm sure they didn't…" 

Roark buries his head in his hands. It's too early to have it spinning like this. Pikki pats his back, asking, "Does it bother you that much? You already knew your dad was seeing someone."

"Yeah, but…" Is it weird to him because Riley is like family, and so much younger than Byron? Or because they both kept Roark in the dark about it for so long?

A swift knock on the door makes them both jump. "Rise and shine, Pirika," Riley says from outside. "Breakfast is ready. If you find Roark, do let him know. He seems to have mysteriously vanished. I wonder where he could be?" His tone that suggests that he knows precisely where Roark has gone, and is going to tease him about it later.

"I can't do this," he mumbles. "I can't deal with them all weekend." He plops onto his back across the bed. "I'm just gonna stay in here the whole time."

Pikki smiles, leaning over him. "Well, I wouldn't object to that. But we have training to do, so you should probably let me get dressed. Or at least close your eyes."

It didn't register before to Roark until she's that close, hovering over him, that she's still in her pajamas: a thin tank top of solid aqua with dark blue trim, and tiny shorts that match the blue. He springs upright, averting his eyes. "Okay, we should both get dressed," he says. "Only my clothes are out there, so I'm going… you know." He moves for the door as he babbles, opens it, and runs face first into it.

Pikki giggles softly from the bed. "Careful."

He painstakingly shuts the door without a sound. Thankfully, he can hear his dad and Riley talking in the kitchen, so not only did they not witness him coming out of his female friend's room, he's got a few more minutes before he has to face them.

_I need a real vacation,_ he thinks, swapping his conveniently baggy sleep pants for jeans in the living room. He'd give anything to spend a week in his Underground secret base away from work and the gym and Byron's secrets. And, since he can't get the image of Pikki and her cute little pajamas out of his mind, he wonders if she would be interested in joining him.


	16. Chapter 16

The morning kicks off with Roark and Byron battling one another. As expected, Byron takes the win, chortling and gloating the whole time. Though annoyed by him, Roark happily agrees to face Pikki next. Riley referees while Byron watches closely. She's extra excited to show him she's gotten better at battling since she left Oreburgh. Maren puts her all into knocking down Roark's onix, which is simple for her now. And Godoron, the little aron with the sturdy rock smash move, finds an equal in his cranidos, who's only gotten faster and tougher. He dodges her attacks while she withstands his — the match is pretty much at a draw. 

The two pokemon pause, panting, staring each other down. Then they both start glowing white. Godoron doubles in size and becomes a lairon, while Roark now has a newly-evolved rampardos. He looks just as stunned and thrilled as Pikki feels.

"Would you look at that," Riley remarks. "Match over, you two! Let's have a look at your new pokemon!"

They all admire them, and feed them berries for a tenacious battle. Then Byron says he wants to show Roark how to maneuver a pokemon as large as a rampardos on the battlefield ("I have an onix!" he protests). Riley announces he'll get lunch started, so it'll be ready whenever anyone's hungry. Much as she'd like to watch Roark, Pikki chooses to go with Riley so she can talk to him at last. 

"Can I help?" she asks, jogging to catch up with his long stride.

"Of course. Lunch will be quick and light, however, just some sandwiches. Byron said he misses just grabbing a sandwich." Riley smiles fondly.

"That's actually good to hear. You've been cooking so much. I thought you'd be on training duty as well."

"I will be, don't you worry. It's just that I love cooking, and you don't get to do a lot of it when you travel the country." He lays out some slices of bread in a row on the kitchen counter.

Pikki watches him distribute lunchmeat in a neat assembly line. "Thank you for helping me get to Jubilife," she says. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"You're welcome. The journey has been going well, I take it? Have you been able to assist your mother?"

"Yeah! Well, I'm almost broke at the moment, but now I have a sponsor! I think after the Pastoria Gym, I'll be able to save more to send to her."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Pikki watches the sandwiches come together. "But… why did you do it? Are you that generous to people you barely know, or was there something about me, specifically?"

Riley smiles again, keeping his eyes on the counter. "I just wanted to. I could tell you have potential, and I gambled on that being the key to keeping your mother's lovely restaurant afloat. It would be a shame for the Battle Zone to lose its only Shin'ai monument."

"You could have just given her a donation… but thanks."

"Are you having fun, traveling Sinnoh and meeting new pokemon? Making all kinds of new friends?" He smirks a little.

"I am." 

"That's why I did it." He brushes off his hands and taps her nose. "And I'm glad to see your journey has brought you here, with us."

Pikki grins, realizing she wouldn't be here on Iron Island, with Roark, if not for Riley. She wouldn't be helping him deal with… "Um," she speaks up. "You're dating Roark's dad, aren't you?"

Riley shuts the fridge door. "Yes, I am."

"He figured it out. And he's really upset that you're keeping it from him. So maybe you should tell him today, and get it out in the open?"

He sighs quietly. "That's up to Byron. I think he should tell him privately. Those two don't talk to each other enough, and I'm afraid they'll drift apart."

"Will he? Can we get them in a room together to make sure they do?"

"That's a good idea. I had hoped for something like that this weekend."

Hearing that relieves Pikki's worries. Riley seems like the type to make sure it happens, too. "I don't know him very well, but… I hope he's good to you," she says. "You're so gracious, he'd better appreciate it. And all the food you make."

Riley chuckles, piling all the sandwiches in a picnic basket. "He does. Don't let him know I told you this, but he's actually very sensitive and sweet. Only I get to see this side, however. And Roark did, as a young boy."

Pikki giggles behind her hand. "That's so cute!" 

"Byron's trying to treat him like a man now, which means no more doting father. Unfortunately, that's coming out in ways like criticizing his battling too harshly, avoiding any talks about his romantic life… and reacting poorly when Roark brings a cute girl along for the weekend." He hands her the basket.

"So he doesn't think much of girls, after all?"

"He's not ready to see his son with one, is what."

She blushes. "But we're just friends. He invited me for training."

"Oh, please." Riley grins at her, gathering four large water bottles in his arms. "Perhaps you two need to talk to one another as well. But not too privately, else Byron will get worried and kick down your door to make sure you're behaving."

Pikki feels her face grow even hotter, and squeezes the basket to her chest.

Roark's mood has greatly improved since his cranidos's evolution. As they take seats on big rocks for a sandwich break, Byron surprises them all with praise for Rampardos's superior speed and power. "If you're gonna insist on those hard and fast attacks, that's the way to do it," he says.

"You'd best challenge me next, then," Riley says. "Now, Byron, tell Miss Pirika what you told me when we watched her battle."

"Mmn…" Byron pauses. It's the first time he's spoken to Pikki directly. "Your defenses are good. Needs work, but that's your team's strength. You're gonna face me next."

She and Roark exchange incredulous looks. "Thank you!" she gushes to Byron. "I'll do my best!"

He grumbles and stuffs half a sandwich in his mouth. Pikki wonders if he's annoyed, but one glance at Riley tells her he might be a little flustered instead.

For the rest of the afternoon, they take turns. Pikki battles Byron, making sure to show off Maren's and Godoron's defenses. They're still no match for his bastiodon, but he doesn't critique her like he did Roark. He gives her advice instead, like teaching Maren the aqua ring move so she can retain some energy with every hit she takes.

Then Roark faces Riley. It's a whole new spectacle, as Pikki has never seen Riley in battle. He changes completely. Gone is the soft-spoken man who's been attentively preparing food all weekend and speaking fondly of his lover in secret. He fixes a focused, solemn eye on Roark, as if sizing him up — or predicting his every move. His attacks are swift and calculated, from his lucario's force palm to his salamence's dragon claw. 

Pikki glances over at an expressionless Byron, wondering which one, if either, he's rooting for. Then she looks back at Roark and his rampardos, who's breathing hard after being rushed by Riley's salamence. "You can do it, Roark!" she calls out.

He orders a thunderbolt, which is extra deadly to flying-type salamence. It's paralyzed, unable to fight back, so Rampardos finishes it with a zen headbutt. A stunned Riley concedes defeat. 

"Huh," Byron mutters beside Pikki. "I'll be damned."

"He's good at powerful attacks, just like Riley," she notes. "Wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah, not bad. Rock-types always need to build up their defenses, though. They're too vulnerable."

"He says the best defense is a good offense. That's his strategy."

"Hmm…" 

Riley distributes potions to every pokemon who battled, and they take a little break. "You did really well," Pikki says to Roark while Riley and Byron tend to Bastiodon. "Rampardos is going to own your gym."

"Sure hope so." Roark grins at his new pokemon, which he hasn't been able to stop admiring. "Thanks for cheering me on, too. I was about ready to give up." 

"Aww, you were not."

"I felt like it. Riley's so formidable on the battlefield. It's nice to have a cheerleader."

"Should've packed pom-poms and a uniform, then," Pikki jokes. 

Roark doesn't have a response to that, only wide eyes behind his glasses. Pikki giggles at him being tongue-tied, and is thinking of follow-up teases when Riley tugs on the hood of her shirt and announces, "Your turn to face me now, dear."

As they take their places, Pikki grows more nervous, but also eager. She battled Byron and is now up against someone who might be even stronger in his own way. Suddenly Crasher Wake doesn't seem so intimidating. And it's high time to give Korin the shinx, her ace against the water gym, some serious training, now that she won't be up against some partial ground-types. 

The ground shakes before she can grab her great ball. They all exchange surprised looks. Then it happens again. "What's going on?" she asks.

"Wild steelix fight?" Roark guesses. "That happens once and awhile." He looks to his father for confirmation.

Byron frowns, staring off into the distance. It happens a third time, even stronger. "Don't feel like steelix," he assesses. 

"Should we investigate?" asks Roark.

"I think so." Riley moves closer to them, so Pikki follows, stepping slowly. "There have been intruders here before, and I don't like them in my mine."

"Good idea. A mine is a terrible thing to waste." Roark nods sagely.

Byron sighs with exasperation. 

"You promised!" Pikki scolds him. Then the next quake makes her lose her balance. Puns forgotten, Roark nabs her arm before she falls on her backside. 

"You kids get inside," Byron orders. "We'll go check it out."

"No, they should come with us," Riley says. "We might need all the help we can get."

"But it could be dangerous!" Byron's voice gets louder.

"Your son is a gym leader, he knows how to fight. And Pirika is the only one of us with a water pokemon, which is always helpful against cave-dwellers. Now let's go," Riley says sternly, leading the way into the iron mine.

Once inside and armed with flashlights, Riley decides they should split up. He sends Roark and Byron one way while Pikki follows him down another. Thankfully, there haven't been any more quakes, and she hopes it's over so they can get back to the rest of the evening. "Did you call this _your_ mine?" she asks.

"I did," Riley says. "I'm the official owner of this barren iron mine."

"Did… did you buy it?"

He smiles grimly. "No. My father had it transferred to my name once the ore dried up… about when I became a legal adult at fifteen. I'm certain he wanted me to repurpose it, and therefore stick around to work in the family business. Instead I opened it to the members of the Canalave gym for training, since the new gym leader at the time helped me so much. Byron's been looking after it ever since."

"Wow. So your family is in mining after all?" She remembers Roark saying that Riley himself wasn't.

Riley nods. "I might as well tell you. My father is Darius Herrera. Remember him? That's why I was so concerned about him, specifically, being at Stark Mountain."

"Oh… I see." Pikki remembers the well-dressed man who showed up at the Oreburgh Mine and was so amiable to Roark. "Do you think he's down here for something? Like Stark Mountain?"

"That was the first thing that crossed my mind, yes. I won't let him get away with it."

"But if the iron ore is gone, what could he be after?"

Riley frowns, breathing a deep sigh. Pikki doesn't get an answer, and that makes her all the more nervous. She recalls Roark saying _he has a double last name, from both his parents._ Apparently he dropped his father's name somewhere along the way, possibly after leaving the family business. She wonders what happened to drive them apart, and to make Riley so agitated at the idea of him poking around caves. 

He stops suddenly. "Here," he says, pointing his flashlight at the huge opening before them. It's the entrance to an enormous pit cave. The small beam does nothing to illuminate the giant shaft's depths.

"It looks bottomless," Pikki comments with a shiver. "What is it?"

"It's not. At the bottom are ruins of an ancient temple. The secret of Iron Island that very few people know about today. My father is definitely one of them." Much like his battlefield self, this is an unexpected side to the otherwise pleasant Riley.

Pikki stares down at the utter darkness. "So what would the CEO of a mining company want with an old temple?" she questions. 

"That's what I'd like to know. And am afraid to discover."

She takes a step back. "I think you'd better get Byron for this."

"Byron may hate him more than I do, and partly on my behalf," Riley says coldly. "I split us up to avoid a confrontation between the two."

"This is dangerous, Riley. Let's just go wait for him to come out, then you can interrogate him. _If_ he, or anyone else, is really down there. It might have just been some steelix after all, there haven't been any more earthquakes since we—"

A mighty quake rocks the entire ground so much that there's no question it originated from the pit cave. Pikki loses her footing — and plummets straight into the hellish hole.

Her screams freeze in her throat. _Not bottomless,_ Riley said. That means any second now she'll find the cold, hard ground; the ground of a shrine to careless explorers throughout history.

Suddenly she stops. She's floating — somehow. She feels herself drifting slowly downward until she reaches the bottom, plopped gently on her backside. Shaking violently, she looks up, sees the tiny speck of Riley's flashlight far, far above. He's shouting to her, but she can only hear him faintly, not enough to make out what he's saying. 

There's also light before her. A golden lantern on the ground, and a soft white flash that bobs in mid-air, a hovering pokemon. There's a gigantic statue carved into a metal slab in the solid rock wall. And there's a man with a flygon and nosepass on each side, facing it.

Pikki gets up slowly, legs wobbling. "Hello?" she speaks cautiously.

The man whips around, snatching his lamp. "Who's there?"

"U-um… I fell, and…"

"You _fell?_ What were you doing up there to begin with? Who are you?" He comes closer with his lantern. Pikki can see his face, see that it's definitely not Darius Herrera. He's bearded, rugged, handsome, and recognizable: the famous Haruba Jones, whose newspaper clippings have graced Atuy Kotan's walls as long as Pikki can remember.

"Oh!" she exclaims.

"Ayame?" he says at practically the same time.

She gasps softly. Of all the things for Haruba Jones to say, her mother's name was not something she expected. 

Then a huge pokemon makes its way downward from above, floating slowly. It's a metagross, and sitting atop its flat head is Riley. "Pirika! Thank the gods!" he cries, jumping off and rushing to her. "I had Talos here levitate you to safety. I'm so relieved!"

"Riley?" asks Jones.

"Khaled!" he responds. Pikki didn't realize they knew one another, although Riley did drop the man's name when he visited Atuy Kotan. Given their reactions to seeing one another, they seem to be good friends. Observing them is at least a distraction from her deadly fall.

"You're the one making those earthquakes?" Riley wonders. 

Jones lowers his lantern. "Heh. You caught me."

"What are you even _doing_ down here?"

"Hey. I got a more important question for you." He points the lamp towards Pikki. "Who's she? She's the spitting image of Ayame!"

"That's my mom!" she speaks up. "You knew her, right? You gave her some of the Shin'ai relics from your big expedition. She has them on display in her restaurant to this day!"

Jones stares at her incredulously. "Her kid, huh? And she opened her own restaurant after all? How about that. You know, I think about your mom a lot, especially since I came back to Sinnoh. I'd like to see her again whenever I get the chance… if she'd want to see me." He sounds wistful.

"Khaled…" Riley says gently, placing his hands on Pikki's shoulders. "Remember the favor you asked of me? And how I told you I found one of them?"

Haruba Jones's eyes grow wide. "You're kidding."

"I'm not. I had a hunch as soon as I set foot in Atuy Kotan and met Ayame Hidaka herself. Then I read this girl's aura to confirm it." He squeezes her shoulders. "Her name is Pirika. She's your daughter."


	17. Chapter 17

Haruba Jones stands dumbly. The lantern highlights his gaping mouth. His astonished look mirrors how Pikki feels. It can't be. It _can't_ be.

"I…" he says, the first one to break the silence. "Geez, Riley, you sure? I can't tell in the dark here, but she doesn't seem old enough."

"She was born in February sixteen years ago," Riley says. His hands are still on her shoulders. "That matches up perfectly with your famous Shin'ai Expedition nine months prior, doesn't it?"

Pikki feels her heart plummet into her stomach as if into a pitch-black pit cave. Her father, of whom Ayame barely spoke because she had only known him for a day and a night — he's this famous archaeologist who hurried off for his next big score. The man she grew up idolizing for his contribution to her ancestral heritage is the same man who left her mother alone to raise a child and run a business. Ayame always said the parting with Pikki's unnamed father was mutual, that she wouldn't have made him stay and put down roots when he was such a restless soul… and that was before she knew she was pregnant. Finding out he's none other than the rich and famous Haruba Jones, hearing him speak of her poor mother as if he misses her and is in love with her — Pikki wants to scream at him and cry at the same time.

Jones draws in a breath. "Pirika, huh? I'm glad she gave you a Shin'ai name."

She fights back tears. "How _could_ you?!" she shouts.

The breath comes out as a heavy sigh. "I know. I know what you're gonna say. Let me apologize, first of all. I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of, especially in my younger days."

Pikki can only shake her head in voiceless disbelief.

Jones takes off his hat, sets down the lantern, and runs his hand through his sweaty hair. "Listen, not long ago, I found out I had children. That is, more than the one I actually knew about. I was a jackass and split before he was born. I regret it, but his mother and I fought all the time. It wouldn't have worked out, that kid would've grown up bad. I thought I was doing them both a favor. I ran off all the way to Snowpoint City and wound up heading the Shin'ai Expedition. My team and I took the spoils to Hallows Town, where I met your mother."

Riley's hands squeeze Pikki's shoulders. It's the only thing keeping her grounded.

"I thought she—" Jones starts to say before a considerate pause. "I guess we each thought the other was protected. I had no idea. She never reached out to tell me after I left, or asked me to come back… not like Maya, who practically made me propose to her at gunpoint."

"Khaled," Riley rebukes him.

He rolls his eyes. "What I'm trying to say is, I never forgot about Ayame. If I'd known about you… things probably would have been different. You understand?"

Pikki opens her mouth, but words are blocked by a lump in her throat. Instead it takes every ounce of her will to hold back a flood of tears.

"Gods…" Jones sighs. "This isn't how it should have gone. If I wasn't up to my neck in my latest mission, I'd take you somewhere nice to get to know you. But everything I'm doing right now… this—" He gestures at the metal statue behind him. "This is all to correct my mistakes. I'm trying to do right by Maya, Ayame, the divine being who looked into my very soul and seeks to punish me for all eternity unless I redeem myself…" 

"Honestly now," Riley interrupts. "Are you still on about that?"

"You were right there when it happened!"

Riley pats Pikki's back and steps beside her, closer to Jones. "Just what _are_ you doing here? You managed to avoid the question when I asked the first time. So let's put aside the awkward family reunion for a moment so you can explain yourself, shall we?"

"How about you first explain to me what _she's_ doing here." Jones points a thumb in Pikki's direction. "Falling down into a bloody great cave. And you, for that matter. Although you own the place, you probably had an aura hunch I was in here, huh?"

"I didn't, as a matter of fact," Riley says. "I came to Iron Island with Byron to help train his son. Pirika is a friend of Roark's, he brought her along. We were all just outside the mine entrance when the earthquakes started, so we investigated."

"Heh." Jones grins. "It goddamn figures. The one time I visit the Iron Ruins, you just happen to be on the surface."

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" Riley demands slowly, patience dwindling.

Jones replaces his hat and holds up both hands, pleading innocence. "Remember that new job I told you about when I first came to Canalave?"

"Dig up 'various treasures' and 'three certain relics'?" Riley confirms. "Not much to go on— oh." He looks over at the wall where Jones's pokemon are waiting before the alien statue. "Don't tell me…" 

"You got it. My generous benefactor wants Registeel and his brothers."

Pikki recalls the story of Registeel, Regirock, and Regice — three ancient pokemon unlike any other who were sealed away due to their terrifying power. It's just a myth, however, one of many that Sinnohan children grow up learning. There are three old temples honoring each titan across the region. Registeel's just ended up under an iron mine, appropriately.

"You can't be serious," Riley says gravely. " _That's_ what you're doing, trying to rouse and _capture_ Registeel? Are you out of your mind?!"

"Probably." Jones grins. "But afterwards, I can say I did it. And come out with a fortune."

"Who's paying you? Who's the madman that put you up to this?"

"Can't tell you. Maybe when it's all over, though."

" _Why?!_ " Riley cries, frustrated. "We tell each other everything!"

Haruba Jones looks gravely at him. "You trust me, yes? There's a sound explanation for everything I'm doing… but I can't tell you just yet. Alright?"

Riley stares at him — perhaps he's even reading his aura. "Very well," he says after a moment.

"Good. Now… don't tell Byron about this, either."

"I can't do that!" 

"Please, Riley. I can't have the Canalave authorities impeding me. I need to catch Registeel and move on to the next one."

Riley looks conflicted, even pained. "Khaled…"

"I know, brother. I know. But please. Trust me."

Another silence falls between them. "Fine," Riley finally concedes. "Just be quick about it, and hurry away from here."

Jones nods. Then he looks to Pikki once more. "We'll have a proper talk someday soon, I promise."

She can barely look back at him. Fortunately, Riley takes her hand, leading her to his metagross. He helps her climb on top its flat metal head, and they quickly ascend. Haruba Jones's golden lantern gradually becomes a tiny speck swallowed by darkness. 

Pikki jumps when she hears a commotion below, followed by the sound of the cave walls rumbling. "We'd best ride Talos all the way out," Riley suggests, keeping his arm securely around her. "Wouldn't want you to fall again."

She can't bring herself to look up at him. "You're good friends, huh?" she asks hollowly. "That's why you gave me such a big tip. You knew all along."

"I did." His voice is quiet. "Can you blame me for helping out my best friend's child?"

"You know the other one too? Or just how many siblings I've got?"

"I don't, sorry to say. He's traveled the world, so it's hard to tell."

"Gods," Pikki swears bitterly. "Talking about my mom like she's special to him."

Riley squeezes her shoulder. "She is. He's told me about her before. He never forgot about her after all those years."

She doesn't believe him, but keeps her thoughts to herself as she listens to the subterranean commotion. It's more intense, so she wonders if that means Registeel is awake.

Soon they must hop off the metagross, who cannot fit through the narrower mine passes. Riley keeps a tight hold of Pikki's hand the rest of the way as they walk. "Now, we must keep what happened a secret, at least for a little while," he says. 

"You're really not going to tell Byron?"

"I want to. He deserves to know. But I promised Khaled, and I'll keep my word."

Pikki frowns. It doesn't seem right.

"So that goes for you too. You mustn't tell Byron. Or Roark, for that matter. Let's say it was a territorial steelix fight after all. Three or four of them, to explain the extra strong quakes."

The thought of lying to the two of them makes her uncomfortable. This whole situation is uncomfortable. She didn't realize Riley and Haruba Jones, her unscrupulous father, were thick as thieves with such a history they would call each other "brother." She feels as though she doesn't know Riley at all now. He's changed faces so many times this weekend.

"Pirika?" he prompts her.

"Okay," she reluctantly agrees. 

Outside the mine entrance, Roark and Byron are already waiting. Riley tells them the fabricated tale, but Pikki can't bear to listen to it; she shakily walks over to a low, flat rock to sit down and process everything. 

"Pikki?" Roark instantly comes over to her. "Is everything alright?"

With one look at him being so concerned and kind, she loses her composure. She buries her face in her hands with a sob.

"What happened?" He kneels to be more at eye level with her. 

She would tell him the whole truth if Riley wasn't right there, no doubt watching her outburst closely. "I— I fell, that's all," she stammers out an answer, wiping tears from her cheeks.

"You _what?_ Are you hurt?" Roark asks worriedly, leaning close to inspect her. "Did you hit your head? Or break anything?"

"N-no, I fell into an underground cave. It was huge, I thought I—" She chokes up. This part isn't a lie. She'd been so shocked by the revelations below that she never quite processed that she nearly plunged to her death. "I thought I was going to—"

"Oh gods… weren't you with Riley? How could he let you _fall?_ " He sounds angry all of a sudden.

Pikki shakes her head. "He saved my life. His metagross used a psychic move to catch me in mid-air. I… I feel so stupid now. I'm fine, everything's fine. Just—" 

Swiftly, Roark pulls her into his arms. "It's not fine! I don't know what I'd do if…" He trails off, holding her tightly. 

She feels like crying again. For all the times she fantasized about being in his strong arms, this was not part of the scenario.

"Thank Arceus you're not hurt," Roark murmurs. "I take safety in caves and mines seriously, you know. I can't help it. If only you'd been with me instead. If it were me, I wouldn't have let you fall in the first place."

That's her breaking point. She clings to his black t-shirt, sobbing into his chest. He squeezes her, slowly rubbing her back without another word. If she'd never fallen into that underground temple, then all of this would have been avoided. She'd still be flirting with Roark and swooning over Riley and Byron's secret romance, blissfully unaware of her biological father and his suspicious deadly-pokemon-poaching ventures. Right now, she'd give anything to erase the past hour so that could be reality. 

"Is everything alright?" she hears Riley ask. He's making sure she didn't reveal anything she's not supposed to, she's certain.

"It just now hit, the impact of her fall," Roark answers without letting her go. "Thanks for saving her."

"Of course. It was a close call. I'm just glad I was there."

"I said it was too dangerous," Byron announces in a tone that tells Pikki he doesn't think much of her ability to handle herself in perilous or dramatic situations.

" _Dad,_ " Roark says sternly. "It was an accident."

"Pokemon trainers are supposed to be prepared for _anything!_ "

There's another earthquake, the continued battle between Haruba Jones and Registeel. "Alright, you two," Riley says. "This is no time or place for an argument. Inside, quickly now."

Pikki pulls away from Roark, wiping her face with her sleeve. He stands back up, holding out his hand. "Come on."

Byron and Riley are already heading back to the cabin. "Still doesn't sound like any steelix fight I've ever heard," Byron is saying. Pikki wonders if he bought the story. She takes Roark's hand, and they follow over the rumbling ground.

Riley busies himself starting dinner, as if nothing happened at all. Food, and watching Riley continuously lie to his loved ones, is the last thing Pikki wants. She excuses herself to wash up and go to bed. To her relief, Roark is waiting just inside the bedroom for her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks, shutting the door completely. "It seems like something else is bothering you."

She sits on the edge of the bed. She wants to tell him what happened; knowing him, however, he would immediately storm out and confront Riley about it. Then the fighting would start, and Byron's yelling makes her nervous.

"I…" she begins. "I feel like I shouldn't have come. That I'm in the way. Your dad is clearly annoyed with me by this point. If I'd just stayed in Pastoria, none of this would have…" She starts to get choked up again.

Roark hurries over and sits next to her. "You're not in the way, I promise. _I'm_ glad you're here. That beats whatever my dad thinks, which is honestly a mystery."

"I know. It's… I feel silly for dropping everything and running all the way across Sinnoh just because you asked me to."

He sighs. "This is all my fault."

"What? How?" 

"It's true I invited you to help you prepare for Wake, but I really just wanted you in my corner. I knew Dad would be on my ass all weekend because of my latest losing streak. He's a great gym leader and teacher, but I'm tired of all his criticisms and how he thinks his way is the right way. But you, you're always cheering me on, complimenting me, calling me the Rock… it makes me feel better every time. I need that right now."

She feels her heart skip a beat. "Really?"

"Yeah. Meanwhile, you're uncomfortable around my dad, you put your journey on hold, plus you nearly fell to your death, all because I'm selfish. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be! I wanted to come! I wanted to spend time with you again…" She feels her face get warm. This is hardly the time or place to start admitting her feelings. "You know, since you couldn't make it to Hallows Town."

He smiles guiltily. "I'm sorry about that too. I definitely want to go there someday."

She tugs on his arm, as if dragging him along. "Come back to Pastoria with me? Hallows Town isn't far."

"That would be great," he says with a grin. "I don't think I can, though."

"I know." She slumps down. 

Roark lets out another sigh. "What a weekend. Not that I expected it to be a relaxing getaway, but still… I'm going back home more stressed out than before I left."

"You're stressed? Because of the gym?"

"Yeah. So finding out about Dad and Riley's little secret isn't exactly what I wanted out of this trip. Then I almost had a heart attack when I thought you got hurt. I'm ready to head home tomorrow morning, how about you?"

She nods and says, "Everything will be okay. I'm fine, you'll talk to your dad about it eventually, and you have Rampardos for your gym now. He beat Riley's salamence! You're going to win your next gym match, I can tell."

"You don't have to keep encouraging me. If anything, I should be cheering _you_ on. But thanks." He ruffles the hair on top her head a little bit.

Pikki does feel better after talking to him, but once he bids her goodnight and leaves the room, she's back to thinking about Haruba Jones and Riley. She tries to sleep, but does so restlessly all night, wondering just when Jones finished his mission and escaped Iron Island.

The next morning, when Roark announces they're heading to Oreburgh first thing, all four of them take the ferry back to Canalave City. As hastily as he can, Roark says his goodbyes and ushers Pikki to the beat-up truck he'd parked in Byron's apartment complex. They're both tired and quiet for the first part of the drive until Roark starts ranting about his father's secret relationship again.

"I just can't get over how well they hide it," he's saying. "I mean, Dad always keeps his private life kind of guarded, but… we're family. Is that the reason, because Riley became part of our family ten years ago and it's weird that he and Dad are romantic partners now?"

Pikki watches the countryside whisk past from the window. "Maybe," she agrees sleepily, moodily.

"It _is_ kinda weird," Roark affirms. "But you know what? I don't care if Riley is my adopted brother or my future stepdad. I just want them to be open about it, and trust me to accept it like an adult. Dad raised me to always be forthright, how can he not be the same? Was it Riley's idea? Sometimes that guy is a little too secretive. I think it was his own upbringing. And the running around the country for a decade, possibly being a conman for a living. But if he truly loves Dad and me, he should be honest."

Pikki's stomach twists into knots the more Roark talks about Riley. "You're right," she mumbles, eyes glued to the window. "He should."

"You just don't _do_ that!" He pounds the steering wheel with a fist. "Lie to the people you care about the most. If that's the case, you don't care about them enough, I say."

She feels her bottom lip tremble. "If you feel that way… then I'd better tell you what actually happened in the iron mine."

"Mm…" Roark nods. "Wait, what?" He looks sharply at Pikki before swerving to straighten out on the road.

"I can't lie to you, of all people. I'll tell you what really upset me. And what Riley asked me to keep secret."


	18. Chapter 18

On Monday, Roark drives to work thinking about everything Pikki told him. Once they safely returned to his home, he had her come inside so she could reveal her tale. She did her best to fight off tears when talking about how she learned Haruba Jones is her estranged father. Roark didn't have the heart to drop her off alone for the night at the pokemon center, so he invited her to stay over in his guest room, which only Byron has seen thus far. 

He told her she could sleep as late as she wanted and leave for Pastoria at any time, but he fully expects her to show up at the mine first. However, given how upset she was from the whole weekend, maybe she won't. It doesn't seem right for Pikki to be so troubled — not when just the other day he marveled at how she's always cheerful. But he doesn't know what he can do. He let her unload her story and stay to rest, and giving her time to process it all on her way back to Pastoria seems like the best course of action. Though what he really wants to do is hug her some more, then sit Riley down and make him explain himself.

_Back to the old grind instead,_ he thinks a bit sullenly as he parks outside the mine entrance. He takes a moment to glance over at his passenger seat, empty of both passengers and junk mail, and sighs deeply.

But it's not the old grind as expected, since a couple of Herrera Company representatives have shown up for an unscheduled morning meeting. Roark, his assistant supervisor Colin, and the other mining site managers cram into the office trailer with the two men in suits for what is assuredly going to be an uncomfortable meeting.

"We'll get right to the point," one of the reps begins. "The company is going to shift its focus in the near future, in compliance with new environmental regulations being laid out. Which, as you know, is the reason we had to shut down the Fuego Ironworks."

Roark and his coworkers exchange dubious looks. They never did receive an official explanation for why the ironworks closed its doors. "Is it?" one of them asks. "Or is that your story for the media?"

"You _are_ aware that Sinnoh has been pushing for an increase in clean energy sources?" the rep bites back. "From the Valley Windworks to Sunyshore's city-wide solar panels, we're starting to do a pretty good job of keeping up with the rest of the country. Unfortunately, as wind and solar power grow, the need for fossil fuels is going to decrease."

Roark holds his breath. He knows exactly where this is going. 

"Of course, Herrera Company has always been in the excavation business, not just mining and ironworking," the other suit adds. "You no doubt know how we teamed up with your grandfather to make the Sinnoh Underground a reality," he says to Roark.

He feels the other men's eyes on him, and crosses his arms self-consciously. It's true that his family has worked for the Herrera clan for a few generations, but they don't have to bring it up all the time like he's some kind of golden child who only became a foreman because of nepotism — like he became a gym leader.

"So, in the next few weeks," the first representative continues, "we're going to be cutting back on coal output, and—" 

"You _are_ closing the mine!" one of the workers exclaims. "I knew it all along!" 

"We're not _closing_. We're just taking the first steps towards Sinnoh's future. Coal is a fuel of the past, and mining is a dangerous line of work, as you're all well aware."

"Not like it used to be!" Colin rebuts. "We've made tons of improvements for everyone's safety, and brought in a lot more pokemon power to help us out!" 

Roark is grateful to hear Colin stand up for his hard work, which is the real reason for his promotion, despite what a lot of the other miners think.

"That's why we're not closing the mine," the other rep insists. "We're only making some cuts here in Oreburgh — but rest assured, everyone is guaranteed a job in other fields. There are new ventures yet to be announced, as well as a continued need for coal for the time being, so we're not laying off anyone. Don't worry."

"We'd like you all to hold off telling the entire crew until the end of the week," says the first suit. "Give them the weekend to let it sink in, talk it over with their families if they'd like to relocate…" 

"Relocate where, exactly?" Roark asks, thinking of the miners who have spent their entire lives here in Oreburgh. 

"Still in Sinnoh, we're not expanding to other regions just yet."

"Yet?" one of the miners mumbles. Another mutters to him, under his breath so no one else hears. The atmosphere in the trailer darkens just in time for the meeting to end, though each supervisor departs in a mood he must conceal from the workers.

Roark doesn't leave the trailer. Instead, he plops down in the dirty, armless computer chair behind a makeshift desk, where he holds his head.

"Alright, boss?" Colin asks, sticking his head back in the door.

"This can't be happening," Roark dimly answers.

Colin comes back inside, closing the door behind him. "Everyone's suspected it since Fuego closed, though."

"I know. Just… this is too many changes all at once. What in the world is the company going to start doing to just give all these men new jobs right away?" They won't like it. For most of them, especially the older ones, this is their life's work, all they've known. Dangerous or not, they won't readily give up mining.

"Hasn't the big man told you anything?"

"Mr. Herrera? No, I haven't talked to him in weeks." Roark stares blankly at the desk. Darius Herrera hasn't come to Oreburgh or even called since before it happened. Not even to ask about the gym he's sponsoring. That might be odd, but Roark figured it's because he's a very busy man. He wasn't about to just call him out of the blue and ask about Fuego Ironworks. Meeting with the CEO has to happen on _his_ time.

"So you don't have any idea what he's plannin'?" Colin wonders.

"Not a clue. I guess I'll have to set up a meeting with him myself if I want any information to pass along to you guys. Before corporate sugarcoats it." He mentally berates himself for not doing it sooner.

"Hey, don't stress out too much about it. You got your own job to see to first. And a gym to run."

"Don't remind me." Roark drops his head to the desk. Suddenly his memory flashes bits and pieces of his weekend in a chaotic blur: Byron yelling for not training his pokemon like he does, Riley's cagey smiles that apparently hide a wealth of secrets, the presumably powerful pokemon from Riley he has yet to see for himself, Pikki in her cute pajamas leaning over him on the bed, but also Pikki crying in his arms. There's a pang in his chest as he remembers that particular bit.

"Sorry," says Colin. "Hey, maybe you won't be workin' here much longer, and you can devote all your time to that gym. Maybe that's what Herrera's got in mind for you."

Roark sits back upright, pushing back the hair that covers his glasses. "Honestly, I'd rather stay with the mine. It needs me more."

"Seriously? I figured you'd wanna follow in your old man's footsteps and be a gym veteran."

"Not really. Not right now." He thinks of how he came to Oreburgh at fifteen, optimistic he'd be apprenticing at the fossil restoration lab in no time. How far away that goal seems now. He's devoted only three years of his life to the mine, nothing compared to the decades men like Mason have put in. Yet it feels longer, for everything he's been through: starting at the very bottom, saving a dozen lives after commanding some wild geodude to dig them out of a cave-in, helping the miners from then on train pokemon to clear threatening rocks or help widen narrow passages. Three short years, going on four — and his hard work is about to be cut in half before it's eventually done away with. He wonders if he's wasted his time.

The rest of the day is tense. Though the supervisors keep the news to themselves, the other miners know something's up. Roark doesn't know if it will last the rest of the week. Given how fed up he is with secrets, he feels like he should just announce it tomorrow and get it over with. 

To make matters worse, Pikki hasn't texted him all day. He's gotten so used to her messages over the weeks that an absence of them feels wrong. And while he wants to text her, to ask how she's doing, he decides to give her some space. Still, the thought of her trekking to Pastoria without so much as a farewell stings. 

When he returns home, he parks his truck on the curb and stares at his front door for a minute. It's always nice to come home, except now. Collapsing for the night only to get up and go right back to work is the last thing he wants.

Once inside, he hangs up his keys and kicks off his dirty boots with a sigh. Some strange, soft sound graces his ears, along with a tantalizing smell. There's food being made, somehow. Did Riley sneak in? Is he going to come clean about a few things? Or does he somehow miraculously know what his father is up to, and is going to help save the mine somehow? _Neverending Herrera family politics,_ Roark thinks bitterly. _Bad enough back then when Dad was involved._

But it's Pikki who peers around the corner, holding a spatula. "Hi," she greets him cheerfully. 

He blinks. For a second he thinks he's hallucinating from stress and from hunger, because the smell makes his stomach grumble like an onix. "You're still here," he says incredulously.

She smiles shyly. "Yeah. I wanted to make you dinner, as thanks for letting me stay last night."

"Ohh…" Roark has never felt so touched in his life. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble."

"It's no trouble. Except you have next to nothing to cook with. I spent a long time shopping, I'll have you know." She shakes the spatula at him accusingly. "Do you even know how to feed yourself?"

"Apparently not." He moves to the stove to see what's cooking. Pikki darts over, hurriedly stirring up meat and vegetables sizzling in the skillet. For something so simple, it looks heavenly. "Gods… it smells so good," he sighs. "You're the best, Pikki."

"Aw. It's just a really basic stir-fry. I'm sure Riley could do better."

Roark wouldn't trade this for any of Riley's fare. He wants to hug her, quite badly, but only stops himself because he's so dirty from the mine. "How much longer 'til it's ready?"

"Not long." She lifts the lid on another pan Roark didn't notice before, and he smells fresh, hot rice. His stomach loudly growls, making her giggle.

"Do I have time to shower really quick?" he asks. She says of course, so he hurries to the bathroom. This day has just become much better. He cannot believe she _stayed_ and _made dinner._ He just came home after a terrible day to a sweet and cute girl, one who is currently his best friend, who always lifts his spirits and has made a delicious dinner. His dream come true.

All clean and changed, he returns to the kitchen just as she's dishing everything out on two plates. As soon as she sets the skillet back down, he pulls her into a tight hug. She gasps lightly, and her small arms fold around his back while she nestles into his chest. 

"I thought you left already," Roark says softly. "You didn't text me."

"I'm sorry. I wanted it to be a surprise. You know I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye first, right?" She looks up at him. "Were you worried about me?"

"Yeah. I should have checked in on you, but…" He doesn't want to go into it. "How _are_ you doing?"

"I feel a lot better." She hands him a plate and heads for the kitchen table. "I think just getting it all off my chest helped. And then I slept a lot, since I couldn't sleep at all Saturday night. So thank you for letting me do all that."

"Good. You're welcome, but I feel like I didn't do enough. Now you're delaying yourself even more to cook dinner…" He takes a bite of what might be the most delicious thing he's ever tasted. "Oh my gods, it's good. You really can cook."

"I told you so! It's really simple though, anyone can pan-fry meat and vegetables."

"I can't," Roark says with his mouth full. "S'why you're so great. After the day I had, this is the best thing I could ask to come home to."

"What happened today?" Pikki asks, suddenly concerned.

"I'll tell you after dinner. I don't want to ruin it."

While they clean up their dishes and the kitchen, Roark explains the news. Pikki agrees that it sounds suspicious, that it can't be as simple as the company shifting its line of production and just giving each displaced miner a secure new job. But there's nothing to be done until Roark can talk to Darius Herrera personally, so he'll have to take it one day at a time, and not worry too much. The mine won't close for good just yet, if at all.

After the cleanup, Roark shows Pikki something she missed while looking in the fridge for ingredients: a box of homemade mochi straight from Atuy Kotan. "You really did order from my mom!" she exclaims. "She never told me! But then, I haven't called her in awhile."

"She was pretty happy about it. Once I told her who I am and that you gave me the number, she got all excited. I don't know if it was because of a gym leader placing an order, or the fact that I told her I'm a friend of yours."

Pikki's giggling fades gradually. "I wonder if I should tell her about this weekend… I don't know what I'm supposed to do about all this." 

He pats her shoulder. "I think you should follow the advice you just gave me — one day at a time. Just focus on what you need to do each day, and don't think about that guy. The time will be right for you to talk to your mom about it when it comes."

She nods. "You're right. And right now I want to focus on eating mochi and relaxing."

They watch TV on the couch and dig into the mochi. Pikki is delighted since her own mother made it, a treat from home she didn't know she missed so much. Roark realizes how much better he feels compared to just a few short hours ago. Much like Pikki, his worries are lighter after unloading them on her. He's full of good food and has her company for the rest of the night. He feels like pulling her closer for a cuddle, but maybe he shouldn't push his luck. 

Early the next morning, she showers and packs up her bag, so she's truly leaving while Roark goes to work. "Thank you again," she says as they pause before the front door. "Despite everything, I had a good time."

Roark has to chuckle. "Well, I'm glad. Sorry my house is such a mess, by the way. After I said on Friday I'd rather clean up first before inviting you in. I hope the bed wasn't too dirty."

"It's fine. I'm a trainer, I live on the road now. You really do keep fossils everywhere, huh? I found one under the pillow. And in the kitchen cupboards while I was looking for plates."

"Hey, I dug them all up myself, I get to put them wherever I want." Although sometimes he doesn't know nor remember why he put them in random places.

"It _is_ your house." She suddenly hops up to hug him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. "I'll miss it."

Roark holds her tightly. He'll miss having her here. He catches a whiff of her freshly-washed, slightly damp hair. It smells so clean and feels so soft that he can't stop himself from nuzzling into it. "I wish you could stay," he murmurs, unable to stop his words as well. He doesn't want to come back tonight to an empty house, but he shouldn't say so.

Her arms tighten around his neck. "I could… if you really want."

_Please,_ he begs silently, but says instead, "No." He pulls away with great willpower, hands on her shoulders. "No, Pikki. I won't let you put off your journey any longer. I'll be fine."

She nods. It might be his imagination, but she looks a little disappointed. "You can handle whatever happens, you're so strong and grounded. That's why you're the Rock." Standing on tiptoe again, this time she leans in and kisses his cheek.

"Hey… I'm supposed to be the one encouraging you." He watches the blush spread across her pretty face as she shyly looks away. He smooths down a stray strand of her hair, then gently lifts her chin up towards him, so he can— 

They're interrupted by a shrill noise: the urgent, mood-killing ring of his work phone. They both jump like startled buneary. " _Damn_ it," he hisses, snatching it to answer.

"Boss, you're comin' early, right?" Colin asks. "We're gonna have another meeting, remember?"

"I'm headed out the door right now," Roark tells him. "Don't worry, I'll find out what's going on one way or another. Seeya." He drops the phone back into his side pocket with a sigh. "I gotta go." 

Pikki nods, squeezing his hand. "Everything will be okay, Roark."

"For you, too." He locks the door, hurrying to his truck, where she follows him. It will be the last time he sees her for awhile, so he has to make his hasty farewell count. "It takes a lot of strength to stay positive all the time, so I admire you for it. I feel like I could learn a lot from you." 

"It's more like I'm trying not to think about… those things. There are more pressing matters at this very moment." She blushes again. 

"Well, still. Call me anytime if you want to talk about things, alright? Even if it's the middle of the night. No matter what."

"I wouldn't wake you up like that."

"I mean it, though. My work drama is nothing compared to your father drama. Please don't think your life is any less important than mine. So if you ever need to talk about it more, I'll be here. Okay?"

"Okay. And I'll be back, when I come through to go to Canalave."

"I can't wait to see that battle." Roark's grin fades fast as his work phone rings again. "Oh my gods…" he whispers, yanking it from his pocket and tossing it into the truck without even looking. "I take it back. I wish I could come with you instead."

Pikki smiles up at him, rocking on her heels. "I like the sound of that." 

Before he can change his mind, he swiftly kisses her forehead. It's not quite what he wanted, and his lips are blanketed by soft bangs, but it's something. "See you soon, Pikki."

She stays on the curb, waving as he drives off. He doesn't dare look for long, or think about picking up where they left off the next time he sees her. It won't be soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've passed the halfway point! Things will not be the same for our heroes from now on! Drama, tension, and romance are only going to intensify!! On that note, I'm taking a little hiatus from this story to work on another project I've been neglecting. You can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/magnetixm), [tumblr](http://canalaving.tumblr.com), and [deviantart](http://magnetixm.deviantart.com). Will I ever draw again? Who even knows.


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